Climbing the Walls
by spacemonkey69
Summary: Nicole was having a bad day. Late home from work, caught in traffic, and now running late for a party. What happens next is something she never expected. A Chandler Story. COMPLETE! Please Read & Review. ChanRach, dark story
1. Chapter 1

A/N - I know that there is no character called Nicole on Friends, but just bear with me! Oh and i do not own any of the characters, but i sure wish i owned Matt Perry! Hot Damn!

* * *

Nicole glanced at her watch, scowling at the time.

"I'm so late," she muttered to herself, quickly applying blush. She took her hair out of the rollers and ran a brush through, satisfied with the way her blond hair now sat.

Checking her watch once more, she hissed at the time.

"Jesus Christ, Michelle is going to kill me," she groaned as she grabbed her purse and fled the room. "Bye Fluffy!" she called to her cat as she exited the house.

"Where are they?" she muttered to herself, rummaging through her purse for her keys. "Where the hell are they? Shit!" she cried as she went sprawling to the ground, the contents of her purse spilling out. She glared at her heel, which had gotten caught on a rock.

"Oh this is just not my night," she groaned, picking up the items from the ground. Her keys still were missing.

"Looking for these?" Nicole whirled around to find a man holding her keys.

"Yes! God, thankyou! You made my day!" she said breathlessly, standing up to face him.

"Really? Must have been a crappy day," he mused.

"Oh you have no idea! I got off work late, got stuck in a traffic jam, spilled apple juice all down the front of the dress I was meant to be wearing tonight, which has all resulted in me being 45 minutes late for a party."

"Well then, you shouldn't be standing here chatting to me then," he smiled, handing her the keys.

"God, you're so right! Thanks for the keys," she turned towards her car.

"Unless you want to blow off the party and hang with me?" the man said hopefully. Nicole turned to face him again.

"I'm sorry, I'm flattered, but this party is sort of a big deal. I can't miss it," she explained.

"You've already missed 45 minutes," he countered.

"Which is why I really have to go! See you." Nicole once again started for her car.

"Don't walk away from me," the man hissed. Nicole froze, except for her hand, which slowly reached into her purse for her pepper spray. Something smacked into her from behind and she was thrown against her car, her pepper spray rolling under the car. Nicole spun around just in time to see a fist rushing towards her. She fell back against the car, her vision blurring.

"Looks like you are going to be a bit later than you thought," the man sneered down at her.

"Help!" Nicole screamed, looking around frantically. The man roughly covered her mouth with his hand, causing her head to smack into the car window.

"Man, is your friend going to be pissed at you," he continued to taunt her, leaning closer. "I'm sure she will understand, given the circumstances."

Nicole let out a choked cry as she felt a sharp pain in her stomach. The man removed his hand from her mouth and she looked down. The hilt of a knife was sticking out of her stomach. She hadn't even seen him move.

"Oh…god," she managed to gasp as she slid down the side of her car. The man watched smiling as she crumpled to the ground. He reached down and yanked the knife out, eliciting another choked cry from Nicole.

"And you were worried about apple juice staining a dress," he mocked. Nicole moaned as she felt her blood dripping on her face, coming from the car door. She knew she was dying; she could feel her life slipping away from her. Groaning, she turned her head to the side and spotted the pepper spray just out of reach.

Stifling a cry, she threw her arm out to grab it and gasped in horror as her fingers knocked it away. She looked back at the man, who had watched her actions with amusement. He shrugged.

"Tough break toots," he lifted the knife up high, its blade dripping with her blood. Nicole squeezed her eyes shut as the knife came plunging down.

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Please read and review! Be gentle! I'll update soon!


	2. Chapter 2

Hey, thankyou for all the reviews! They were lovely! I tried to get the chapter up as quickly as possible, because it was just itching to jump out of me! But I'm afraid i only had a short while to write, so it isnt very long! Sorry! I'll try to make the next chapter longer, and will hopefully get around to writing it very soon! Not tomorrow, cause it's my 18th birthday! Yay! 7/7/87! be happy for me!

Oh, i dont own the show or and of the cast, yadda yadda, although once again, if given the chance, i would like to own Matt Perry. His eyes would look lovely on our child...creepy

* * *

Chandler opened his eyes with a gasp. He glanced around the room in panic, then looked down at his trembling hands. A dream. It had just been another god damn dream. He ran his hand through his sweat soaked hair, then rubbed his eyes. It was then that he realised he was crying.

"Fuck," he whispered, throwing back the covers and stumbling out the room.

"Fuck," he repeated as he filled a glass with water and raised it to his lips.

"You okay man?" Chandler gasped, the glass slipping out his hand and falling to the floor with a crash. He stared at the shattered glass in shock. The noise had startled him, even more then the voice had. The glass had shattered into countless pieces, and the careless way it was spread out reminded Chandler of Nicole's things, displayed on the pavement for all to see. He shuddered, tears springing to his eyes once more.

A hand touched his shoulder, causing Chandler to gasp once again. He spun around to find Joey staring at him, his brown eyes wide with worry.

"Chan?" Joey whispered. Chandler stared back at him, unable to find any words.

"Chandler?" Joey asked again, sounding like he was about to cry. Judging from the look on his face, that wasn't a far off assumption. Chandler felt something wet hit his hand, and reached up to touch his face. He was crying again. "Chandler? What's wrong?" Joey said urgently. Chandler opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out. "I'm going to get the girls."

"No!" Chandler cried suddenly, his voice sounding high and unnatural to him. It reminded him of Nicole's screams. Chandler squeezed his eyes shut tightly. He heard Joey's footsteps and realised Joey was heading towards the door. "No, I'm fine, I just…I needed a glass of water."

Joey stared at him, unbelieving. Chandler let out a small laugh. "I guess I was still half asleep. You scared me, is all. Go back to bed, I'll clean this up."

"No, it's fine. I'll do it, you just go back to bed," Joey said gently, the look of worry and slight fear never leaving his face. Chandler nodded and slowly walked towards his room.

"Chan?" Joey called out. Chandler looked over his shoulder to find Joey staring at him intently. "You can talk to me whenever, you know that right?"

"I know," Chandler whispered. "Night Joe."

"Night Chan." Chandler closed the door and leant against it, the tears coming once more. This time they came as silent, but painful choking sobs, causing Chandler's stomach to tighten. He winced and pressed his hand protectively against his abdomen. The sobs weren't the only thing hurting his stomach. Chandler drew in a shaky breath. He could still feel the blade inside him.


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you so much for all the reviews, and for the person who wished me happy birthday! That made my day! This chapter, well, i have no idea where it came from really. I've always liked in stories where they have long passages of peoples thoughts, and i have been itching to do it for a while. I finally got to do it with this story! I really like this chapter for some reason, probably cause you get to spend some quality time with Chandler and his mind hehe. Oh, and to all the people who were annoyed about my short chapters...im sorry about that, but i hope this redeems it! I hope you enjoy!

Oh, and i dont own friends yada yada yada...but i WILL one day be known as Mrs Perry

* * *

Thank God for weekends, Chandler thought as he rolled over the next morning. He had slept that night, but no where near enough to get him through the day coherently. Not that he really needed to be coherent at work, but still. Leaving this apartment was the last thing he wanted to do that day. Hell, he didn't even want to leave this room. But he knew he would have to soon. Joey always slept later then him and if he wasn't up when Joey got up, he would be expecting a worried knock on the door.

He could always pretend he was sick, Chandler mused to himself. But then Joey wouldn't be the only one worried. Phoebe would bring him water soup, and insist on playing him a song. Monica would follow, taking away Phoebe's heartfelt attempt at soup and replacing it with some of her own, then proceed to organise the entire room for his comfort. Ross would come in an attempt to cheer him up, and bore him to death with stories of pterodactyls and cavemen. Rachel would no doubt bring him magazines to read and tell him all the gossip, while making sure that he was comfortable and looked at least half decent. And Joey would worry and fuss over him, while pretending that he wasn't worried or fussing. He knew his friends too well. It was a sad fact, but it was true. Maybe he _should _tell everyone he was sick; he wanted to see if he was right about his friends' reactions and behaviour.

He didn't want them fawning over him though. Looks like he would eventually have to get up. Chandler sighed and rolled back over.

That might still happen though, he thought. If Joey told them about his behaviour, they would probably all fawn over him anyway. Chandler groaned into his pillow. He didn't want that; didn't want anybody to know about what had happened. It was bad enough that Joey knew, but if the girls and Ross found out, it would be mortifying.

Joey was most likely really worried about him. He sometimes would worry about things so much that he wouldn't sleep; it was Joey's way. He was too compassionate sometimes. Chandler hoped that Joey wasn't that worried about him, but he had a gut feeling that he was. Joey worried about the silliest things sometimes, why wouldn't he worry about this?

Chandler sighed again. This wasn't a silly thing though, and he knew it. The dreams had been coming more and more frequently in recent times. He had feared on a couple of occasions that he was losing his mind, but had decided that was not the case. It wasn't like he was hearing voices, or seeing things that weren't there. He was simply having weird dreams. No, scratch that. They were more than weird dreams. They were reality. Well, to Chandler they were. Every stab that happened, every jab of pain that coursed through the victims' body, Chandler felt it.

'_Looks like you are going to be a bit later than you thought'_ Chandler shuddered, the man's chilling voice breaking through his barriers. He didn't want to remember; the blinding pain and hysterical fear that he…no, Nicole had felt; it had been one of the most terrifying and nauseating experiences of his life.

'_Don't walk away from me' _Chandler swallowed harshly, his stomach rolling at the words. Why the hell was he having these dreams? What was wrong with him?

"Don't go there," he muttered under his breath, and smiled, despite himself. He was joking, at a time like this? Not that it was a surprise, that's who he was.

Chandler Bing, the guy who, no matter what the situation was, would be there to cheer everybody up. Humour was his defence, it had been for years, and he was sure that it would be for however longer he was on this Earth. But at the moment, he wasn't sure if he could even make a joke. A good one, he meant. That worried him, and he was sure that it would worry the others. They grew concerned when he didn't moke them at regular intervals, he had seen it happen so many times before.

Once again, Chandler didn't want anyone worrying about him. He didn't want their pity, nor did he want them fretting. They were only stupid dreams, it's not like it was real life. Everyone has dreams, and Chandler was sure that he wasn't the only one who had had _these _sorts of dreams, or worse. As unnerving as the dreams were, Chandler found some comfort in that thought. Not that he wanted people to suffer, but the selfish part of him was glad that some people were worse off. Better them then me, he thought.

He knew he was being awful, but Chandler didn't really care. He was, after all, losing his mind. Well, he wasn't, but he _was _freaking out. He knew that if anybody else found out about this, they would want him to see a psychiatrist. A head doctor. A fucking shrink.

As freaked out as he was, Chandler knew that seeing someone would only make it worse. Seeing a shrink would only confirm his suspicions that he was going crazy. If he saw a shrink, Chandler just knew that he would lose it, and he didn't want that to happen. Him losing it would be another way that the murderer would win. First he took Nicole's life, and now he was taking my sanity, Chandler thought dejectedly. He knew that the man wasn't real. There was no murderer, no Nicole, no Michelle or party. Chandler also knew that his brain had likely created these people for some other reason, possibly as a substitute for something. He had no idea, a shrink could probably tell him why, but there was no way he was going near one.

Chandler rubbed his hands together nervously, his palms sweating. He knew the man wasn't real. But, on some level, he was to Chandler. That thought scared him more then anything else. His slight acceptance of fiction being fact was uncommon for him, and the way his brain was trying to convince him that fiction _was _indeed fact, it was unsettling.

"I'm losing my mind," Chandler vocalised his fear this time, his voice trembling. A thought occurred to him; a memory from a movie or a TV show. 'Crazy people don't know they're going crazy. They think they're getting saner.' He guessed that it worked the other way round. Sane people don't know they're sane. They think they're going crazy.' Chandler smirked at the thought. It was true. He couldn't be losing his mind because he wouldn't be aware of it. It was confusing, but true. He wasn't crazy, he was just fucked up.

A knock at the door startled Chandler away from his thoughts.

"Chandler?" Joey's voice called hesitantly. "Are you okay?" Chandler frowned. Joey was worried. He didn't want that. "Chan?"

"I'm fine Joey," Chandler called after a moment. "I just slept in. I'm fine."

"You sure?" Joey still sounded uncertain, his voice sounding like that of a child.

"Yeah, I'm sure! I'll be up in a minute," Chandler said, almost soothingly.

"Okay then. You want some eggs?"

"Sounds good buddy!" Chandler listened as the footsteps moved away from the door and sighed for the last time that morning. Least he had been able to spend some time with his thoughts, as disturbing as they were, he thought as he rolled out of bed.

Thank God for weekends.

* * *

A/N - The quote about 'crazy people dont know they're going crazy' was actually a quote from 'Lost' made by John Locke. It just seemed fitting at the time, although it creates a small problem. You see, this story is meant to be set in season 4 (i havent told you guys that, but i wanted him to be without mon, but look like he did in season4/5) but lost didnt start until after season 10 finished...so if ya'all can ignore that little problem, it would be great! Please read and review! i promise more soon (if i can figure out where im going with this hehe. You guys are about as clued in as i am!) 


	4. Chapter 4

Okay! I decided to get this one out as quickly as possible, because..well, it's a nothing chapter really...i mean! please still read it, but this is kinda like the calm before the storm, you know? i had to have a filler chapter to get to the next one. That is why it is pretty short. But please still read it! I need your praise to live!

Oh, and thankyou for all the lovely reviews, and birthday wishes. Yeah, the london bomings kinda did put a damper on my day...i just dont understand how people can be so cruel. But anyway, please review, and i promise a new, hopefully long, and detailed (and exciting) chapter soon! God bless!

Oh, dont own them or anyone yada yada, but one day, Matt Perry and I SHALL be stuck in an elevator together for hours on end, and we shall fall madly in love...i may have to get to America to do that though

P.S- to the person who said not to get joey and chan togehter...i love slash, but i aint doing it in this story. Neither will Chan and Mon get togehter. Chandler having a love interest would just get in the way me thinks. So, thats just a head's up on the love situation!

* * *

"Looks great man," Chandler said as cheerfully as he could, pouring himself a strong cup of coffee. Joey looked up from the frypan.

"Thanks," he said warily. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah, for the most of it. Except for needing a glass of water," Chandler laughed nervously. "Sorry about waking you up by the way."

"That's cool man," Joey placed the eggs on a plate, biting his lip thoughtfully. Chandler watched him carefully. He was deep in thought. "No more weird dreams then?" Joey finally asked, handing the plate to Chandler.

"What do you mean?" Chandler questioned as innocently as possible. Joey sighed.

"You've been having weird dreams," he said matter of factly.

"What makes you say that?"

"I hear you," Joey answered softly. "Tossing and turning. I checked in on you the other night. You were muttering, and you have been acting weird! I put two and two together. So, any weird dreams?" Chandler sighed.

"Yeah," he admitted.

"About?"

"I don't remember," he lied. "It was weird, I remember that much." Joey studied him thoughtfully for a while. Chandler wasn't sure when he had last seen Joey look so pensive. It looked odd on him, like he was trying too hard.

"Okay then," Joey said finally. "But you'll tell me if anything is wrong?"

"Deal," Chandler said softly, smiling his best smile. He hated lying to Joey, but under the circumstances, he saw no alternative. Well, he could always tell the truth, but that wasn't going to happen any time soon. The door opened suddenly, and Rachel entered.

"Hey guys!" she greeted happily. Chandler smiled in response, while Joey gave her a plate and started piling food on top. "Oh, thankyou!" She looked at Chandler, a frown marring her pretty face. "You okay sweetie?"

"I'm fine, why?" Chandler asked, frowning back.

"You just look a bit off, that's all," she pursed her lips, studying him further. Chandler shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"He had a weird dream last night," Joey piped up. Rachel raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"Again!" she exclaimed. Chandler whipped his head around to face Joey.

"What does she mean 'again'?" he hissed.

"She was worried! We both were!" Joey said defensively.

"There is nothing to worry about! I'm fine!" Chandler insisted.

"Okay, but if they get any worse…" Rachel trailed off, raising her eyebrows once again to emphasis her point.

"I will tell you," Chandler finished dourly.

"Good," Rachel ran her hand through Chandler's hair, smiling down at him fondly. Chandler smiled back, albeit weakly. "Don't want my favourite boy suffering, do I?"

"Hey!" Joey exclaimed. "I thought I was your favourite boy?"

"You're my favourite _man, _honey," Rachel soothed. "Chandler is just like a little boy! I mean, look at him!"

"She has a point," Chandler said smirking. He was glad for the subject change. "But what about Ross?"

"Well, I'm still annoyed with him about the 'we were on a break' crap. He's my favourite dork, we'll leave it at that," Rachel said laughing slightly. Chandler smiled, digging into his food.

This was just what he needed.


	5. Chapter 5

Hey guys! Sorry it took so long for me to update! I've been a bit busy this past week...okay, that aint really true. I was only _pretty_busy, but i also had a wonderful case of writers block, which then turned into sudden inspiration. Unfortunately, the inspiration came for the chapter _after _this, and naturally i couldnt post that first, because...well, you wouldnt really get confused, but it would annoy me! So here it is, my long ass chapter that took me forever to write! Oh, and btw, once again, i have to stress that there is NO romantic aspect in this story, and there wont be...unless i have a sudden change of heart. But if i do, it wont be between chan/mon or chan/joey...ah, heck, there aint gonna be no romantic aspect, and thats final! Thanks for all the reviews, and i hopefully will post the next chapter in a couple of hours (i have to type it up first) but if i dont...well, there wont be another chapter for over a week, cause i am going away! Cheers!

* * *

"I have AIDS," Tom Hanks declared. Rachel sighed dramatically.

"Oh, it's so sad!" she exclaimed. "Please tell me he doesn't die!"

"You've never seen Philadelphia before?" Monica asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise. Rachel shook her head, engrossed in the movie.

"Does he die?" Chandler asked after a moment. He was stretched out on the couch, his feet resting on Monica's lap. The two girls had been secretly pampering him all day. Well, they thought they were being secretive. To Chandler, it was blatantly obvious. He wasn't sure if Monica knew about the dreams, but he was certain that she at least knew something was wrong with him. Although he found it unlikely that Rachel, the queen of gossip, would be able to keep this little fact to herself.

There was also the chance that Joey had told Monica. Chandler knew that Joey was good at keeping secrets, but he may have needed assistance with this, and Monica was usually the go to girl. It was possible that even Ross and Phoebe were aware of his dreams as well. Chandler sighed inwardly. It was impossible to keep a secret when it came to this group. Although, he had kept the 'kissing the guy in Atlanta' incident a secret, with the exception of Ross knowing. Unless Ross had told someone, but if that was the case, he would have known. No one could resist taking their revenge and ridiculing _him_ for once.

"_You've _never seen Philadelphia before?" Monica asked once again, snapping Chandler back to the land of living. She seemed quite a bit more surprised that he hadn't seen it. Rachel was sometimes ignorant of movies that critics had raved about, preferring instead to watch corny comedies and cheesy romance films.

"Well, I was a guy in his early 20's when it came out. What do you think I was more likely to watch, a movie with big explosions and even bigger breasts, or some Tom Hanks movie?" Chandler questioned with a slight smirk on his face. Monica rolled her eyes, then laughed.

"Point taken," she muttered, gently pushing his legs off of her lap. "Anyone want to come watch a movie with me?" she asked, standing up slowly. Chandler stretched his legs out once again.

"Well, correct me if I'm wrong, but weren't we already doing that?" he said, poking her in the backside with his foot. Monica smacked him playfully on the leg.

"I mean at the cinema! This movie is far too depressing, I need a good laugh," she explained. "So, any takers? Rach?"

"No, no, no! I have to watch this movie!" Rachel exclaimed, sounding almost frantic. Monica smiled, then glanced at Chandler.

"Well, you know I love a good laugh, but as much as that sounds appealing, I think someone better be here to consol Rachel when it finishes," Chandler said to Monica.

"Why would I need consoling?" Rachel asked in horror. "He dies, doesn't he!"

"Maybe Phoebe or Joey will go with you?" Chandler suggested, after staring at Rachel for a moment. She pouted, returning to the movie.

"Yeah, I'll ask them," Monica murmured, picking up her purse. "Will you two be okay here?" Chandler rolled his eyes as she looked pointedly at him. Back to the pampering, he thought to himself.

"Yes Monica, the 29 and 28 year olds will be alright all by our lonesome," he said sourly. Monica rolled her eyes once again. She had been doing that a lot today, mostly because of something he had said. That was the price she had to pay for being over protective.

"Okay, I'm just checking!" she insisted, glancing at Rachel. "Enjoy the movie, Rach."

"Bye Monica," Rachel said distractedly, still engrossed in the movie. Monica leaned forward and planted a chaste kiss on Chandler's forehead.

"I'll see you later," she said softly, then turned and walked away.

"Bye Mon," Chandler called as the door shut behind her. He frowned, touching the place on his forehead where she had kissed him.

"She's really worried about you," Rachel explained Monica's behaviour. "In case you hadn't noticed, we all are."

"I'm fine," Chandler grumbled, laying his head back tiredly. He wanted to watch the movie, but the lack of sleep was really catching up on him. Rachel tore herself away from the movie to watch him stretch out even further.

"Tired?" she questioned in a soft voice.

"You have no idea," Chandler groaned, suppressing a yawn. Rachel raised her eyebrow.

"Hmm, I wonder why that is," she said sarcastically.

"I'm fine!" Chandler insisted, a bit louder then he had intended. Rachel raised her hands defensively, turning back to the movie.

"Whatever you say," she muttered. Chandler sighed, glancing at the TV. Tom Hanks didn't seem that interesting to him anymore. He wanted to sleep. He _needed _to sleep. But he knew that if he did, Nicole would die once more. He didn't want to see that, but he knew he didn't really have a choice. The body does what the body wants, he thought as his eyes closed against his will. He could feel Rachel's eyes boring into him, but he didn't care. It wasn't long before sleep overtook him.

"Tough break toots," he lifted the knife up high, its blade dripping with her blood. Nicole squeezed her eyes shut as the knife came plunging down. She couldn't, wouldn't watch as this man murdered her. Although she was dying, she was still aware enough to know what the man was doing to her. She had always considered murderers and rapists to be the lowest form of scum that this Earth could offer, but now that she was being subjected to one of their crimes, she believed it more then ever.

The blade penetrated her chest with a sickening thud, and came with more pain then Nicole had ever thought was possible. She screamed as loud as she could muster, which turned out as a choked gasp. The blade had pierced her lung, and she could feel both her oxygen and her life slipping away.

Something warm was running down her chin, and her throat was burning and bubbling with a thick liquid. She was coughing up blood, she realised.

"Help me," Nicole whispered pitifully. "Help me."

"Chandler?" a voice called frantically.

"Help me!" Chandler screamed, gasping for breath.

"Chandler!" The voice yelled. Chandler opened his eyes to find Rachel peering down at him in a way that would have been comical, had the situation not been so serious.

"Rach?" Chandler whispered, clutching at his chest. He could still feel the blade in him. In _Nicole, _he chastised himself. He winced as a sharp pain shot through his head.

"Its okay honey, you had another dream," Rachel soothed, smoothing back his sweat soaked hair. Chandler frowned in confusion. His throat was burning and bubbling with a thick liquid. Chandler's confusion turned to horror as he realised what was going on. He sat up so fast that he caused Rachel to fall to the floor.

"Chandler, what is it?" she gasped. He covered his mouth, coughing violently. She stared at the blood in his hand, a look of surprise on her face.

"Blood…oh my god Rachel, there's something wrong!" he exclaimed, terrified.

"Shh, its okay sweetie, your nose is just bleeding," she reassured Chandler, handing him a tissue. "The blood probably ran down the back of your throat."

Chandler stared at her, silently cursing himself for overreacting so much. Rachel smiled a comforting smile, taking his tissue-filled hand and guiding it up to his nose.

Chandler bit his lip. He had been so sure for a second there that he was dying.

"Shit," he muttered, turning his head away as tears sprung to his eyes. Rachel ran her hand through his hair once again, then gently turned his head back to face her.

"You're alright Chandler," she whispered. A sob unwillingly escaped his throat, and he squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to stop the tears. Rachel wrapped her arms around his shoulders, not caring about getting blood on her clothes. "You're fine sweetie," she continued to console him in a soft voice. "Whatever happened in the dream is not real." Chandler buried his face into her shoulder, and the sobs continued to come. Rachel's heart broke at each sob, and she continued to whisper what she hoped were soothing words in his ear. It was all she could do not to cry herself.

Chandler pulled away abruptly, an embarrassed look on his face.

"I-I have to go," he stammered, standing up hastily.

"What? Chandler, no you don't," Rachel pleaded. "Don't go, talk to me. Please!"

"I'm fine," he muttered, grabbing his jacket. Rachel stood up behind him.

"No, you're not Chandler! You can repeat it as much as you want, but we both know that you are not fine!" she exclaimed. Chandler turned to face her, and enraged look on his face.

"What do you want from me Rachel!" he hissed at her.

"I want you to trust me!" she screamed. Chandler stared at her in shock. Rachel cleared her throat uncertainly, then continued in a quieter voice. "I want you to tell me what is going on with you, what your dreams are about. But most of all, I just want you to be alright."

Chandler and Rachel stared at each other for a long time, Rachel waiting for Chandler to speak, and Chandler waiting to see which one would break the tension-filled silence. Rachel was the first to crack.

"I want to help you Chandler, but you have to trust me," she said softly. "I hate seeing you like this, and I just need you to talk to me."

"I can't," Chandler whispered after a beat. "I'm sorry Rach, but I can't." Rachel nodded desolately, a single tear falling down her cheek.

"Promise me that when you can, you will come to me." It sounded almost like an order, but Chandler nodded anyway.

"Of course," he promised, knowing full well that she would never find out. "Please don't tell the others. It will just worry them more."

"I promise," she assured him. Chandler nodded again, his hand on the doorknob. He opened the door slowly.

"I'm sorry about your shirt," he said, smiling slightly. Rachel glanced down at her soiled shirt.

"It's okay, blood comes out," she reassured him, mirroring his smile. "You might want to get another tissue though; your nose is still bleeding a bit."

"Okay. See you later," Chandler closed the door quickly behind him, staring dejectedly at his feet as he slid down the wood until he was sitting on the cold floor.

"Bye," Rachel said quietly to the closed door. She sighed, then turned around and walked back to the couch. Tom Hanks was talking to Antonio Banderas on the TV screen, but Rachel found she didn't care anymore.

She sat down on the couch and picked up the remote, switching off both the movie and the TV. She carelessly threw the remote onto the floor, then covered her face with her hands and started to cry; loud, heaving sobs.

Chandler listened to her cry, his ear pressed up against the door. Her sobs were faint to him, but the fact that he could hear her at all told him how loudly she was crying.

He pressed his palm against his forehead, groaning loudly. Nicole's pain, his pain, whichever one it was, it had become his friend's pain too. Chandler groaned again.

His head hurt.


	6. Chapter 6

hmm, well, once again this was jsut meant to be a filler chapter, but it turned out to be 800 words longer then it was meant to be! Oh well. I'm sorry if chandler seems a bit...mean in this chapter, but hey...if you were slowly but surely losing your mind, wouldnt YOU be a bit grouchy? Let him be grouchy! He aint jokey chandler in this story, he's angsty chandler! Yummy! Although i love funny chandler too!Okay, i hope to get the next chap up before i go away, but if i dont...SORRY!

once again,i do not own anything bla bla bla, but Matt perry IS locked in my closet!

* * *

The next few days passed uneventfully.

Chandler had hoped that was going to be the case when he left Rachel that day, but naturally, he was wrong. The dreams had become more and more persistent as time passed, as if he was approaching a dead line of some sort. Chandler shuddered as he recalled the last dream he had; the night just gone. It had been the most graphic yet; blood spraying everywhere and the man's sick smile haunting Nicole till her last breath. This had been the first time he had seen Nicole actually die and that thought unnerved Chandler more so then usual. The thought of the deadline crossed his mind once again, and he felt that Nicole's death signalled that the time was up; the deadline had been breeched.

Chandler had no idea what that meant; maybe the deadline was his sanity, and that his time was up. He had no idea. All he knew was that he had woken up, screaming bloody murder as Joey attempted to wake him. Chandler recalled the look of absolute terror on Joey's face as Chandler started to hyperventilate, the panic he displayed as he helped Chandler regulate his breathing.

Chandler squeezed his eyes shut as he remembered Joey pressing a tissue against his bleeding nose, and the way he had stroked his hair while he sobbed.

Chandler had been a basket case that night, and it had scared the hell out of his best friend. Joey wanted nothing more then to help Chandler; to comfort him in anyway he could, but Chandler was beyond comfort at this point.

"_Help me," Nicole whispered pitifully. "Help me."_

"Oh god," Chandler whimpered, cradling his head in his hands. Chandler had tried not sleeping, in an attempt to save himself from Nicole's pain, but he soon found that he didn't need to be sleeping to hear her voice or see her terrified blue eyes.

The flashes of Nicole's anguish had been appearing more and more frequently as of late, and each time they came, they brought along an earth shattering headache.

"You okay man?" Chandler opened his eyes to find Joey watching him with a look of concern covering his face. Joey had looked like that a lot recently. Chandler hated himself for making the normally happy-go-lucky Italian look that way.

"I'm fine." Those two words had become Chandler's mantra over the last couple of days; he would even use them when someone simply looked at him a funny way.

"You sure? You look a bit pale," Joey continued, the look of concern growing deeper. "You got another headache? I don't think getting so many headaches is that good Chan." Chandler didn't respond, choosing instead to close his eyes once again. "But then, having constant nightmares isn't really that good either, is it?"

Once again, Chandler didn't respond, only this time it wasn't because he was being ignorant. He truly had no idea how to answer that question without causing Joey more concern. The fact that Chandler hadn't answered it was bound to do that anyway.

"Damned if you do, damned if you don't," Chandler muttered to himself.

"What?" Chandler opened his eyes slightly and glanced at Joey.

"Nothing, just talking to myself," he said softly.

"Well, at least you are talking to someone," Joey retorted, getting up and making his way over to Chandler. He crouched in front of his friend, brown eyes gazing into blue.

"I think you should see a shrink," Joey said earnestly. Chandler had already started shaking his head, even before the word 'shrink' had come into play. "Don't shake your head; just hear me out! You're having nightmares, getting headaches, and last night you wake up hyperventilation!"

"Hyperventilating," Chandler corrected automatically, by force of habit.

"Whatever, my point is, there is something obviously wrong with you!" Joey exclaimed. Chandler leaned forward, staring Joey directly in the eyes.

"I'm fine," he growled. Joey leaned back, a smug look on his face.

"Really? Last I checked 'fine' didn't mean waking up screaming in the middle of the night!" he shot back. Chandler cocked his head, still staring at Joey intently.

"I'm fine," he snapped, standing up abruptly. He pushed past Joey's crouched figure, and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Joey called after him.

"For a walk! You know, clear my so called crazy head," Chandler yelled over his shoulder as he opened the door.

"Chandler…" Chandler cut Joey off by turning around to look at him.

"Back off Joey," he said calmly. Joey stared at him in surprise. Chandler smiled grimly at him, then turned and walked out the door.

What the hell was he doing? Joey was just trying to help him, he knew that. Chandler also knew that going to see a shrink would probably be a good idea in this situation, but he didn't care. He was not telling anyone about this. End of story.

Chandler glanced at the stairs, frowning. He had intended on going for a walk, that hadn't been a lie. But now that he was actually in the hallway, all his motivation had left him. The splitting headache he had didn't help matters either. He glanced desolately at the door to apartment 19. He could go back in there, but then he would have to face Joey. He wasn't prepared to do that. That left him one choice.

Chandler stared at the door to apartment 20, a deep frown taking over his face.

He was pretty sure that the girls were out all day. Well, he hoped that they were because he wasn't sure if he was ready to face them either.

Monica was still fawning over him like a lost puppy, blissfully and thankfully unaware of his breakdown in Rachel's arms the other day.

Rachel, well, he hadn't seen or spoken to her much since that incident. It was too awkward for him, and he knew that, if she got him alone, the conversation would eventually turn to that incident. They had spent a bit of time together since then, but it had always been with the others. Chandler hadn't spoken to her much during those times, but he had looked up on a few occasions to find her giving him a sad smile.

Chandler rolled his eyes. Please let the girls be out, he pleaded to whoever was listening. He wasn't sure if he could face either of those situations.

Chandler took a deep breath and entered the apartment.


	7. Chapter 7

Okay, well, it nearly killed me, but i got this chapter written in record time! It is now 1 14 in the morning and i have to get up really early to get ready to go away...please enjoy this chapter...i NEARLY DIED!

hehe thank you for all the wonderful reviews and sorry to leave you all hanging like this...i will update hopefully in a week!

Oh, i dont own them yada yada, but Matt Perry IS coming to stay at dads with me! WOOHOO! See ya all in a week!

* * *

Chandler entered Monica and Rachel's apartment, hoping to find some peace and quiet there. Of course, had he gotten his way, that would have been breaking the tradition that had apparently been set.

"Hi Chandler!" Rachel greeted him warmly from the couch. Chandler groaned inwardly. Monica, he could almost handle. She didn't know about the incident.

Rachel knew full too well what had happened. He watched as her eyes did an automatic sweep of his body, resting on his face. She was obviously still worried about him.

"Hey Rachel," Chandler greeted back, somewhat grudgingly. He couldn't just leave now though. He didn't want Rachel to think he was avoiding her. That would only serve to make her more worried. Chandler sighed quietly as he made his way over to her, trying to act as normal as possible. "What's up?"

"Well, I decided that I was going to read the newspaper today," she said proudly. Chandler smirked as he sat down next to her. Normal Chandler would make a joke at her expense. He needed to be normal Chandler today.

"Wow, that makes this the second time in, what, forever?" he joked. Lame, but he was trying. Rachel smacked him playfully, a smile spreading across her features.

"I read the paper all the time!" she insisted.

"Yeah, for the Entertainment section," Chandler retorted. An improvement, he thought, as Rachel pouted.

"And the fashion section," she reminded him. Chandler laughed, his first real laugh in a while. Rachel smiled, studying him closely.

"What?" he asked after a few moments. Rachel's smile grew wider as she looked back down at the newspaper.

"Nothing. It's just nice to hear you laugh," she commented quietly. "I haven't heard it for a while." Chandler smiled grimly. "So how are things?"

_Back off Joey_

Things are fine," Chandler answered quickly; too quickly it would seem. Rachel looked up, her eyes narrowing.

"Oh really?" she mused. "No more horrific dreams then?"

Chandler paused, considering how to answer. He could lie, but Rachel would most likely pick up on it, and chastise him. Or he could tell the truth, and most likely end up confessing his darkest secrets to a shrink. Neither options appealed to him, and as it turned out, he didn't have to choose. Rachel's eyes narrowed further at his ongoing silence, not needing an answer.

"Chandler, I am really worried about you," she said softly.

"I'm fine," there was his mantra once again.

"No, you're not."

"It's just a few stupid dreams," Chandler muttered. Rachel sighed, taking his hand.

"They're obviously not stupid if they are causing you this much trouble!" she insisted. Chandler gnawed on his lip, unsure of how to answer that.

"I'm not going to a shrink," he answered finally, slipping his hand out of Rachel's grasp. She frowned.

"I'm not saying you should," she murmured.

"Then tell me what you are saying, because I have no idea!" Chandler exclaimed, knowing full well what Rachel was trying to say. She sighed once again, and retook his hand.

"Sweetie, I just think you should talk to someone. Not necessarily a professional. Maybe Joey, or me. We would listen," she insisted. Chandler stared at her for a while, then looked away, tears springing to his eyes.

"There's nothing to talk about," he said finally. "End of story." Rachel set her jaw stubbornly and looked as if she was going to pursue the subject. Instead, she picked the newspaper up and once again started leafing through it.

"Okay then," she said quietly. "But we are here. Remember that." Chandler nodded miserably, studying the paper in her hand. A frown covered his face and he quickly snatched the paper from Rachel.

Rachel opened her mouth to protest, but stopped when she saw the look of pure terror on Chandler's face.

"Oh my god," he whispered, staring down at the article. Nicole Atkins, age 28. He body had been found the day before. She had been stabbed repeatedly. Chandler stared at the accompanying photo in shock. _His _Nicole, the Nicole from the dream, stared back at him, her pretty face framed by golden curls.

"Chandler?" Rachel had been repeatedly calling his name, sounding more and more panicked each time round. He turned to face her, his expression blank. All he could think was that it had really been a deadline. Him dreaming Nicole's death had portrayed his failure.

"Chandler? Oh god, what's wrong?" Rachel asked, tears shining in her eyes.

"I have to go," Chandler said in monotone, standing up. Rachel stood also, the tears spilling over her cheeks. She watched his walk away for just a moment, before rushing over and grabbing his arm. He turned around at her persistence, the blank look still encompassing his face.

"Chandler, please don't walk away from me," Rachel begged, her voice on the borderline of hysterics.

'_Don't walk away from me,' the man hissed_

"Get away from me!" Chandler shrieked, batting Rachel's hand away. She flinched back as if he had slapped her, a terrified look on her face.

"Stay away," Chandler whispered weakly, clutching at his head. This was all too much. How could Nicole be real? He really was losing his mind.

"Chandler?" Rachel pleaded, grabbing his arm. Chandler had never seen anyone as scared as Rachel was at that moment. Well, with the exception of Nicole.

"Oh god," he moaned in anguish. This was all too much.

"Chandler? Oh my god!" Rachel cried frantically. She had no idea what to do.

"Please help me," Chandler whispered.

And then everything went black.


	8. Chapter 8

Whew! Okay, I'm back after a week! The week went really fast, but at the same time really slow if ya know what i mean. I was itching to come write this on the computer, and i have written quite a bit more in a book. Also have big BIG plan's for this story! Okay, so originally, when i wrote this chapter, well it consisted of this chapter and what will now be the next chapter, but i decided to cut it in half, because i rambled on quite a bit in this and thought it would be...ah, hell, you guys dont really care! See? I ramble on alot all the time.

Anyway, here it is, after a week, the new chapter. Please enjoy! And if there is any spelling mistakes, ignore, because i wrote it quickly! Oh and i dont own friends, bla bla bla, but you know how Matt Perry dropped his pants at the ESPY awards? That was all for me! (I'm running out of Matt things)

* * *

"Chandler? Chandler, wake up. Please wake up honey! Oh god, I don't know what to do! Chandler? Sweetie, come on, open your eyes for me!"

The voice was growing more and more persistent by the second. Chandler wanted nothing more then to make it stop, but he wasn't sure if he could. He wasn't sure about anything anymore.

How could Nicole be dead? She wasn't real.

The dreams weren't real.

He wanted that to be true more then anything – even more then he wanted the voice to stop. But it wasn't true. Nicole Atkins was a person.

And now she was dead.

Chandler had never believed in the paranormal or precognition or any of that crap. That was Phoebe's area. Chandler liked to have some proof before he made any assumptions, and the doubtful proof that came with paranormal and precognition had never been enough to change his mind. He had his own beliefs and he stayed with them, like a moth to a flame.

These dreams had made all of his beliefs go straight out the window.

The fact that he had predicted Nicole's death before it happened – for over a week before it happened – wasn't something Chandler had ever thought was possible. It seemed theoretically impossible, but somehow it had happened. He had been given the power of precognition, something that Chandler had always associated with crazy people. Next they would be telling him that aliens were real and they were being kept in Area 51, like the rumours proposed.

A troubling thought came to Chandler's mind then, causing his eyes to fly open, accompanied by a gasp. He had predicted Nicole's demise, and it had happened. He had known that much already, but what troubled him was that he had known about it for over a week – known that she was going to die for over a week before it happened – and had done nothing to stop it.

He had been given the chance to save a woman's life, and he had failed. Nicole could have been playing with her cat Fluffy at this very moment, but she wasn't because Chandler hadn't believed.

Nicole had died and he had let her.

"Oh thank god Chandler, I was so worried!" Rachel exclaimed, running a hand down his cheek tenderly. Chandler stared at her blankly, the shock of what had just happened spreading through his system. "I was about to call for an ambulance, I didn't know what to do. I was so scared." She studied Chandler's face for a moment, still stroking his cheek gently. Chandler could see the tear's in her eyes, and the way she was still shaking, ever so slightly. She really had been terrified.

She cared for him a lot, he realised. She loved him; they all did. Chandler didn't deserve their love. A woman was dead because of him.

Chandler bit his lip to stop himself from crying. He knew that if he started, he wouldn't be able to stop. Rachel's hand stopped moving.

"Are you okay sweetie?" she asked softly. Chandler opened his mouth to speak his 'mantra'. Those infamous two words 'I'm fine'. But to both their surprise, those word's stayed dormant.

"No," he whispered instead, tears pooling in his eyes. "No, I'm no fine." Rachel nodded, her hand once again starting up its slow journey down Chandler's cheek.

He leaned into her touch, seeking comfort from her love; comfort that he desperately needed.

"Are you ready to talk to me now?" Rachel asked after a few minutes. Chandler stared at her, debating within himself. He had vowed never to tell anyone, knowing that it would be like opening a can full of worms. But she deserved to know what the hell was going on with him. She deserved an explanation as to why he had once again freaked out. Chandler could see the worry in Rachel's eyes, but he could also see immense frustration.

Rachel had always hated not knowing something; this must have been driving her insane. He didn't want to worry her further with his problems, but Chandler was unsure how much more worried Rachel could get.

He hadn't wanted anyone to know about these dreams, but now he knew the truth. The dreams were real. Plus, if kept this bottled up inside, he was sure he really would lose his mind. Chandler wanted someone to comfort him, to feel his pain. He knew that was slightly selfish, but he didn't care. He needed someone to tell him that it was going to be alright, because he knew there was no way in hell that he was going to hear it from himself.

Nicole was dead.

That thought popped into his head once again. Nicole was dead, so it didn't really matter if Rachel knew.

Nicole was dead.

That's all that mattered to him now. He had let a woman die.

He needed help.

"Yes," Chandler answered finally. "I'm ready to talk now."


	9. Chapter 9

I have a confession to make...I _may _shove in a bit of Chandler/Rachel. Nothing that will overtake the story, but it just seems that that is where it is heading...please dont stop reading! hehehe, i rewrote this twice, the first time because it was all over the place, and the second time because i wanted to incorperate the title into the story... what i came up with, well, i am quite proud of, and i hope you all enjoy! Please read, and PLEASE review! I love to hear people's opinions!

Oh and i dont own friends/the characters/the actors etc etc, but if i could, i would most happily adopt matt perry...ciao!

* * *

Rachel sat on the couch next to Chandler, waiting patiently for him to begin. They had been sitting there, hand in hand, for the last five minutes - Rachel studying Chandler carefully, Chandler studying their intertwined hands, deep in thought.

Rachel was surprised with herself. Usually she was an impatient person, but in this case, she was sure she could wait all day, if that was how long it took for Chandler to begin. She had no idea what he was going through, but she was sure that telling her would be almost impossible for him to do.

Before they had sat down, Rachel had checked Chandler all over, making sure he hadn't hurt himself when he had passed out. She had voiced the option of taking him to the hospital, but Chandler had been insistent that he was fine. Rachel was still unsure about that, but let the issue drop, intending to bring it up later.

Chandler took a shaky deep breath, and looked up at Rachel with an almost shy look on his face. Rachel squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"Have you ever felt like you were climbing the walls?" he asked suddenly. Rachel frowned.

"I-I don't understand," she stammered.

"You know, like you were going crazy, insane, psycho, losing your mind-"

"I get it," Rachel interrupted softly, once again squeezing his hand.

"Climbing the walls. I heard that phrase somewhere; I don't remember where," Chandler continued in a faraway voice. "Climbing the walls from insanity. It seems fitting." He stared at Rachel for a long moment. "So have you ever felt that way?"

"I don't know honey, I suppose once or twice. After me and Ross broke up I felt a bit like that," Rachel admitted. Chandler nodded, looking back down at their hands.

"I've felt like that a lot recently," he murmured. "Like I want to start crying, but I just know that if I do, I will never stop. That you guys would look at me with pity, and things would never be the same again." Rachel frowned once again, worry sweeping over her. Chandler wasn't making much sense. She opened her mouth to voice her opinion, then closed it abruptly and waited for him to continue.

"I've been having this dream recently; for over a week now. It's of this girl, Nicole Atkins." He looked up at Rachel. "It's of her dying." Rachel nodded, scanning her mind quickly. The name, Nicole Atkins sounded familiar, but Rachel couldn't place it. It was possible that it was a character from a book or movie, and that Chandler's mind had unconsciously stolen it. "She's running late and she can't find her keys. She trips, falls to the ground. The contents of her purse spill out onto the sidewalk, and as she picks them up a man approaches her, holding up her keys.

"They talk and the man wants Nicole to blow off the party, and hang out with him. Nicole declines; she's already forty-five minute's late for Michelle's party. She goes to leave and the guy throws her up against the car. She drops the pepper spray she had reached for and he hits her and then he… stabs her." Chandler took a deep breath, his hands shaking beneath Rachel's. "She…she falls down and-and he starts taunting her and…" Chandler stopped abruptly, the words catching in his throat. Rachel squeezed his hand gently, once again urging him to go on. He gave her a shaky smile then continued.

"It felt so real Rach. I felt each stab as though it was happening to me. It felt like I was the one screaming for help, and crying helplessly. I could feel the warmth of the blood, dripping down on me from above. It was like I was the one being murdered, not Nicole." By the time Chandler finished, his voice was no more then a whisper. He paused to take a deep breath, watching Rachel's troubled face carefully. Her face was pretty calm, but he could see the pain in her eyes.

She was terrified for him.

"The dreams got worse each time. She was choking on her own blood…I thought it was happening to me as well. That's why I panicked the other day. I was sure I was dying along with her." Chandler smiled grimly at Rachel before continuing.

"Nicole never died in my dreams, not until last night. I woke up screaming, with Joey leaning over me. I was sure he was going to have a heart attack when I started hyperventilating.

"I felt her life slip away, and I was sure I was dead as well. It had felt like a deadline had been breached, but I wasn't sure that was possible. It was just a dream." Chandler laughed humourlessly. "I was sure that I was losing my mind Rach. I didn't want to worry you guys, but I felt like I was going insane. Climbing the walls. I didn't know what to do. I still don't." Chandler looked at Rachel once again, unsure of how to say what needed to be said. Rachel smiled reassuringly at him, her lips trembling slightly.

"Nicole Atkins died in my dream," Chandler said softly. "But that wasn't the only place she died."

"I-I don't understand," Rachel whispered, speaking for the first time in what felt like an eternity. She wasn't sure if Chandler had ever talked this much without making a joke. It was unsettling. The entire subject was unsettling. Chandler was worried that he was losing his mind, and Rachel was terrified that his worries were true. She couldn't lose him to insanity. Hell, she couldn't lose him under any circumstances.

"They found her body yesterday," Chandler explained quietly. A gasp escaped Rachel's lips at his words. "She had been stabbed twice, on her way to a party. It was in the newspaper today."

There was a long silence; Rachel taking in this new information, Chandler watching her.

"But…but how could you have-"

"Known?" Chandler interrupted. Rachel nodded. He shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes.

"I don't know. Everything is telling me it can't be possible. But it is. Nicole Atkins died. I knew she was going to die. I felt it. But I did nothing to stop it." Chandler stared at Rachel for a long time, not wanting to say the next part. He was ashamed of himself, and was sure that Rachel would be too.

"She died because of me," he whispered finally, the tears spilling over onto his cheeks. To his surprise, Rachel wrapped her arms around him, and once again he found himself sobbing in her arms. But this time, he wasn't the only one crying. Rachel wept along with him; her tears caused by concern, confusion and despair. She wasn't sure how all of this was possible, but she never once doubted Chandler.

"I'm a horrible person Rach," he cried, his voice wracked with harsh sobs. "I let her die!" Rachel shook her head, pulling him closer.

"You didn't know," she whispered. "It's not your fault Chandler. You didn't know."

"His sobs intensified, and Rachel felt a sudden wave of anger wash over her. She cared about Chandler, more then she thought possible, and he was hurting. That infuriated her more then anything; more then Ross cheating on her, or her parents bickering.

"Oh god Rachel, I need help," Chandler whimpered, burying his face into her neck. Rachel scowled, her anger intensifying.

She wanted answers.


	10. Chapter 10

Hey guys! Well, i'm just shooting out the chapters at the mo! im on a role baybe! hehe, this was once again meant to be a short chapter...actually, meant to be the start of a chapter, but it escalated of course! Thank you for all the reviews, and i hope to hear more!

Dont own friends/actors/etc...i love matt perry

* * *

Monica slowly made her way up the stairs, carefully balancing the two pizza boxes in one hand and a bag full of soda in the other. She had been kept back late at work and, for once in her life, didn't feel like cooking.

"Hey Mon," a voice greeted her. Monica looked over the pizza boxes to find Joey standing in the hallway outside their doors.

"Hey Joey," she acknowledged happily as he quickly made his way over to her. "Thanks," she said gratefully as he took the pizza boxes from her.

"No problem. You're home late," he noticed. She nodded.

"Yeah, there was a problem with the pork orders and then we ran out of chicken…It was just a big meat dilemma, I don't really want to relive it." Joey smirked. "So what are you doing lurking in the hallway?"

"Oh! Well, I was just about to go look for Chandler actually," Joey answered, his voice strained. "We had a bit of a fight and he left. That was a couple of hours ago now. I was giving him time to cool off, like I always do, but it doesn't usually take this long." Joey studied his feet, biting his lip. "I'm really worried about him Mon."

"I know honey; we all are," she said softly. "What was the fight about?"

"I told him that he should see a shrink; he didn't agree," Joey explained uneasily. Monica was sure that there had been more to the fight, but she didn't press the subject. No one liked it when Joey and Chandler fought – least of all Joey and Chandler. It was never something any of them liked talking about.

"Why don't you just give Chandler some more time alone?" Monica suggested. "You can come have some pizza, and if he's not back by then, we'll go looking for him."

Joey frowned, glancing from the stairs to the pizza boxes a few times before nodding, albeit grudgingly. "Okay then!" Monica said in what she hoped was a happy voice, then turned and walked towards Apartment 20. Joey followed closely behind, inhaling the delicious smell of pizza.

"Hey Rachel," Monica called automatically as she entered the apartment. Rachel glanced behind her, towards Joey and Monica, and put her finger to her lips, effectively shushing them. Monica put the bag of soda on the table; Joey placing the pizza next to it. They both walked over to the couch to see why they had to be quiet.

Chandler was deep in what appeared to be a restless sleep, his head on Rachel's lap.

Rachel was methodically running her hand through his hair, hoping to bring him some comfort. Monica bit her lip, noticing the tear tracks that ran down Chandler's cheeks. He had been crying; quite a bit by the look of it.

"What's going on?" Joey asked, his voice soft but urgent. Rachel sighed, staring down at Chandler for a long while, before looking up at them.

"We need to talk," she said softly. Joey and Monica both nodded then watched as Rachel carefully lifted Chandler's head and stood up. She set him gently back down, careful not to wake him. God knows he needed the rest.

Chandler stirred, his eyes fluttering open for just a second, then closing once again.

They all watched him drift back into a deep sleep, no one moving or talking until Chandler's breathing was deep and regular. Rachel looked up at Monica and Joey, then motioned towards the door. The pair nodded, and followed wordlessly as Rachel lead them out the door, across the hallway, and into Chandler and Joey's apartment.

"What's going on?" Joey asked once again, he voice louder this time. Rachel shot a pained look his way, then began to pace nervously around the room.

"Rach?" Monica pressed when Joey's question was left unanswered.

"Oh god, I don't know," Rachel muttered tearfully, stopping and sitting down on one of the stools. "I don't know what is happening! No, wait I do…God is trying to ruin our lives!"

Monica and Joey stood motionless for a moment, slightly shocked at Rachel's little outburst.

"Rachel," Joey began, only to be cut off.

"Chandler doesn't deserve this! He is a good person; why is this happening? I mean, Jesus Christ, bad things are only meant to happen to terrible people. Murderers, rapists, vicious son's of bitches who think of no one but themselves! Chandler is not a murderer, not a rapist, he is not a son of a bitch!" she screamed, her voice thick with anger. "Why the hell is God punishing him! Answer me that, why would someone put him through all this pain _willingly?_"

The anger left Rachel's voice then, and was replaced with heart-wrenching sobs. Monica and Joey walked over to offer her comfort, but she waved them away.

"I just don't understand," she sobbed. "Why is someone like Chandler worrying about losing his mind; worrying about climbing the _fucking _walls with insanity!"

Monica and Joey exchanged a worried and confused look. They still had no idea what was going on, but Rachel's breakdown wasn't doing anything to ease their minds.

"Rach," Joey started, his voice timid. Rachel looked up at him with tear filled eyes.

"Could you please fill us in on what is going on?" Monica pushed in, her voice insistent. Rachel sighed, then nodded.

"These dreams, the ones Chandler has been having; they're real," she said simply. Joey and Monica exchanged another look.

"What do you mean 'they're real'?" Joey asked.

"He's been dreaming of a girl being murdered. The same dream, over and over. But getting more and more violent each time. To him, it feels like he is the one being murdered, the one screaming for help…the one dying."

"Rach…" Joey started once again, and was once again cut off.

"The girls name is Nicole Atkins," Rachel blurted out. Monica frowned.

"That name sounds so familiar," she murmured. Rachel nodded.

"There was a story about her in the newspaper today," she explained softly. Joey and Monica stared at her, disbelief covering Monica's face as she realised what Rachel was getting at; confusion still covering Joeys.

"You mean-"

"She died," Rachel whispered, cutting Monica off. "She was murdered. The exact way she was in Chandler's dream. He knew she was going to die; a week before it happened."

"Oh my god," Monica moaned, her hand automatically covering her mouth.

"Are you saying that Chandler's dreams…_are real?_" Joey asked in horror. Rachel nodded.

"I don't know how, but he knew. And now," she glanced at the pair's shocked faces. "He blames himself for her death. Says he should have done something to help her; that he let her die. I tried to tell him otherwise, but he wouldn't listen." Rachel abruptly stood, and once again started pacing the room. "God, he was so upset! I have never seen anyone so distraught! He broke down in my arms; sobbing for what must have been 20 minutes before he cried himself to sleep. I didn't know what to do! I just held him and comforted him." She turned, facing Monica and Joey once again. "I want answers. This is not meant to be possible! And it most definitely should not be happening to Chandler!"

"I agree," Monica whispered, finding her voice. "But…what can we do?"

Rachel sighed yet again, looking defeated. "I called one of my father's old friends. Daniel Mackenzie. He's a psychiatrist. Chandler has an appointment with him tomorrow."

"Chandler didn't want to see a shrink though; he won't be happy about this," Joey muttered. Rachel shook her head.

"Chandler said it himself; he need's help. He agreed to go see Mackenzie," she explained softly. Monica nodded, then frowned.

"Can you hear that?" she muttered, walking towards the door. The other two followed her, glancing at each other in confusion. Monica pulled the door open.

"Oh my god," Rachel muttered, rushing across the hallway and into apartment 20, the sound of Chandler's screams terrifying her to her very core.


	11. Chapter 11

Jeez! Talk about a long chapter! I started writing this (silly me) at 1:30 in the morning, last night, thinking that i would just write the first paragraph before i forgot it. I didnt get to bed until 2:30, and i was only halfway through. Then i got up this morning (afternoon) and jumped back onto the computer, without showering or eating! PLEASE enjoy this chapter, it very nearly killed me!

And now, i am going to have a much needed shower and some FOOD! Please read and review! Oh ,and i changed the settings so that ANONYMOUS READERS COULD NOW REVIEW! That means you, non members! Please review me!

Dont own Friends/actors/characters but Matt Perry does live in my attic...enjoy!

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Chandler sat in what he thought was possibly the most uncomfortable chair he had ever sat in. They were in the waiting room of Dr. Daniel Mackenzie. By 'they', he meant the entire group. Rachel had informed Monica and Joey of the situation while he had been sleeping, and Ross and Phoebe had been informed later that night. Chandler squeezed his eyes shut at the memory of the night before.

He had suffered through the dream once again. The exact same dream, of Nicole dying. He had hoped that, now that it was over, that she was dead, the dream would stop. But it hadn't, choosing instead to continue torturing him.

Chandler had been forced awake by Joey roughly shaking him, and once again, he had bawled like a baby, this time in Joey's arms. He was embarrassed because of that, but Joey had reassured him that he had nothing to worry about. Chandler touched his nose gingerly. It had once again bled last night, and hadn't stopped for a while. Chandler glanced up at Monica, remembering how she had held a tissue against his nose. All three had done that now. Rachel, Joey and now Monica. He wondered who was next. Would it be Ross or Phoebe?

Chandler's eyes shifted towards those two. They had been the last to know; finding out once Chandler had been placed in Rachel's bed. The rest of the group had been sure that he was asleep, but Chandler had lain awake, listening to their conversation about him.

Monica was terrified. She liked to have control over things, and this was something she couldn't control. She was terrified that Chandler was losing his mind, and that they were going to lose him.

Ross wasn't sure what to think. His oldest and best friend was hurting, and he was upset by that fact, but he wasn't sure if he fully believed in the dreams. It went against what he believed in. But this was Chandler. Chandler wouldn't make up something this huge. Therefore, Ross didn't know what to think.

Phoebe was worried, and also amazed. Chandler had been given a gift, but it was coming at a terrible price. She had always believed that everyone was special in their own different way, and Chandler was no exception. She tried to tell everyone that it was a gift, but they hadn't listened. Now, even she wasn't sure it was a good thing. She didn't like how it was affecting him.

Joey was filled with a hundred different emotions: sadness, fear, confusion, anger, to name a few. This was something that no one could have prepared for. His best friend was in pain, and he had no idea how to help him. He had never felt so lost.

Rachel felt the same way as Joey did. She was so angry; she still wanted answers. But at the same time she was upset and terrified. She had broken down into tears more then once the night before, and had also gone in to check on Chandler more then once. He had seemed to be fast asleep, but Rachel was sure that he was feigning rest. She was worried about what he was thinking; them all talking about him was something that she was sure he didn't want. He had looked so innocent, pretending to sleep. Rachel had no idea how something like this could happen to a person like Chandler.

He was so sweet, and caring, and she just couldn't understand why.

Chandler glanced around at his friends, noticing they all looked deep in thought. Were they thinking about him? It was likely.

"Thankyou," he said softly. Five pairs of eyes looked up at him.

"For what, honey?" Rachel asked gently. Chandler shrugged, suddenly feeling self conscious.

"For…I dunno. For being here I guess. For not judging me, and not carting me off to the loony bin." Chandler's half-hearted attempt at a joke fell flat on its face. "Just… thankyou."

"Whatever you need Chandler; we're here for you," Ross piped up. Chandler smiled at him, a real smile.

"This guy is good, Chandler," Rachel informed him once again, patting his hand gently. "He knows his stuff."

"I know," Chandler said meekly.

"You still don't want to go, do you?" Joey asked after a moment. Chandler shrugged once again.

"It's just…weird. I mean, it was hard enough talking to you guys, but talking to some _stranger? _I don't know what to think!"

"He's a professional Chandler; he's there to talk about this stuff," Phoebe said softly. Chandler sighed, and nodded.

"Chandler Bing?" Chandler looked up at the sound of his name, and saw a woman smiling at him. "Dr Mackenzie is ready for you. Will your entourage be joining you?"

Chandler laughed lightly as he stood up.

"No, they're just for moral support, I guess. I'll be doing this on my own," she told her. She nodded, smiling again.

"Okay, follow me." Chandler looked back at his friends, who were all smiling at him. It actually looked a bit creepy, and he smiled at the thought.

"Good luck man," Joey called. Chandler's smile widened and he followed the woman into the room.

Dr Daniel Mackenzie greeted him warmly, with a friendly smile and handshake. If Chandler had to guess, he would say he was in his late 50's, judging from the greying hair and the laugh lines around his eyes and mouth. His eyes revealed a much younger spirit though, and for some reason, that calmed Chandler down slightly.

"Thankyou Michelle," Dr Mackenzie thanked the girl kindly. Chandler flinched at the mention of the name 'Michelle' which didn't go unnoticed by the doctor.

Mackenzie gestured to Chandler to take a seat as Michelle left the room. Chandler sat down, suddenly feeling nervous once again.

"Okay Chandler…that's an interesting name," Dr Mackenzie noted as he took a seat across from Chandler.

"Yeah, my parents felt the need to add more misery to my life," Chandler said, smiling slightly. Mackenzie grinned.

"I like it, it's classy,"

"Well, it's not _your _name," Chandler muttered. Mackenzie laughed; a deep throaty sound that Chandler couldn't help but grin at.

"So, what don't you like about the name Michelle?" the Doctor asked suddenly, taking Chandler by surprise.

"What do you mean?" he asked nervously. Mackenzie sighed.

"Chandler, you're going to have to trust me," he said softly. "I saw you flinch when I said her name. Now, Rachel mentioned that you have been having dreams. Is it related to that somehow?"

Chandler bit his lip thoughtfully. He had told Rachel that he needed help, and that he was willing to go see a professional. Now he was here, getting help with a professional and he was holding back.

"There was a Michelle in my dream," he admitted. "Never saw her, but she was mentioned."

"I see. Tell me about these dreams," Mackenzie said softly.

"You get right to the point don't ya?" Chandler said with a little laugh.

"It's my job."

Chandler smiled, took a deep breath, and proceeded to tell the doctor everything. Every part of his dreams, how he had felt during and after, how scared he was, how he felt that he had failed. Everything. Mackenzie sat in silence, listening intently as Chandler spilled his heart and soul.

"And now, my friends are so worried about me. I heard them last night, when they thought I was asleep. They were talking for hours about me. God, I'm making them worry so much and I don't want that. It isn't there problem," Chandler finished quietly. Dr Mackenzie nodded thoughtfully.

"I heard that you had a number of friends out there waiting," he noted.

"They just needed a good excuse to get off work," Chandler said dryly. He was slightly confused that Mackenzie had not commented on his dreams, but he pushed that confusion aside.

"Have you always used humour as a defence mechanism?" Mackenzie asked. Chandler raised his eyebrows in surprise. He had made few jokes, but the Doctor still had figured him out.

"Pretty much. It was my way of coping with my parents divorce. That and wetting the bed. I guess it stuck…the humour, not the bed wetting."

"Tell me about your family Chandler."

"My friends are my family," Chandler muttered, feeling self conscious.

"Judging from that, I would say that your relationship with your parents is strained?" Chandler sighed.

"You could say that. My mother isn't exactly what you would call a 'normal mom'. She's a famous novelist; writes erotic romance novels."

"Nora Bing?" Dr Mackenzie asked in surprise.

"Yeah. Growing up, she spent more time with her boyfriends then she did me. And believe me, there were _a lot _of boyfriends. We were both glad when I went off to boarding school."

"And your father?"

"Dad headlines a gay burlesque show in Las Vegas, called 'Viva Las Gaygas. Need I say more?"

"No, not really," Mackenzie said smiling. "Chandler, have you ever heard of precognition?" Chandler raised an eyebrow. He had moved back onto that subject with ease.

"Of course."

"From what you have told me about your dreams, it sounds like a textbook case of precognition."

"You think I have precognition?" Chandler asked, surprised.

"It's a possibility. One among a hundred different possibilities, of course. How much do you know about precognition?"

"Not much," Chandler admitted softly. Dr Mackenzie nodded.

"Okay, well. Precognition is the knowledge or perception of what is going to happen in the future. It is the most frequently reported of all ESP, that's extrasensory perception, and it occurs most often in dreams – much like what is happening to you. It also sometimes occurs in waking visions, flashing thoughts entering the mind and hallucinations – not just visual but audio. From what you told me, you have experienced a few of those things.

The majority of precognition occurs within 24 to 48 hours prior to the event, but there are some cases that occur weeks, or even years beforehand. 80 percent of these experiences involve visions of something happening to a spouse, family member or friend. The remainder usually involves casual acquaintances and strangers, most who are going to be involved in major disasters such as plane crashes or earthquakes. Your experience is pretty rare but it does happen."

"Okay," Chandler said after a short silence. "So, say I do have this precognition. Does that mean that I am going to have more dreams about different people, or was that the only one?"

Dr Mackenzie leaned forward in his chair, exhaling softly.

"I really couldn't tell you Chandler. It is different for everyone. There is a chance that you may have more dreams, but there is also a chance that you won't."

"Okay," Chandler repeated. "What about the fact that I am still having dreams, _after _the event took place?"

"That is quite common. Some people call it an echo. It's like dreaming of a situation that you have been in. Dreams stick with you, and people quite often relive them. You may continue to have this dream about Nicole for awhile, I'm afraid."

Chandler nodded grudgingly. He had been afraid of that.

"Oh, look at the time!" Dr Mackenzie exclaimed suddenly. "We've gone overtime by 15 minutes. I don't usually do that; my next patient must be getting annoyed."

Chandler nodded again, standing up this time.

"Thankyou for this," he said softly. Dr Mackenzie stood and held out his hand, which Chandler shook.

"It was my pleasure. I want you to come back in next week," the doctor said smiling. Chandler pulled back his hand, frowning.

"Why?"

"Chandler, I can't help you with one session. You have been through a big shock, and you have to talk about it more. Plus, I want to check to see if you have any more dreams."

"Chandler nodded for the third time, accepting this. He hadn't wanted to return, but he knew he had to.

"Okay. I'll make an appointment," he said softly. Dr Mackenzie smiled, and then led him to the door.

"Good, I'll be happy to see you again. Michelle! Send in Miss Callahan!" he called over Chandler's shoulder. "Oh and Chandler?"

"Yeah?"

"This wasn't your fault. Nicole died because she was murdered. Not because you didn't do anything. You couldn't have known," Dr Mackenzie said seriously. Chandler nodded. Everyone kept saying that to him. He was starting to believe that it was true.

"Thankyou," he murmured.

"Your welcome."

Chandler turned and walked out the door, preparing himself for the onslaught that would be his friends. He didn't care about their questions though. They were here for him.

That was all that mattered.


	12. Chapter 12

Phew! I am just shooting out the chapters! This was meant to be a short chapter...but as you may have figured out, i dont know the meaning of short. This chapter was neccessary, we had to deal with a few things. I'm sorry to all Mondler fans...hey they are my fave couple eva too! But there are just so many Mondler fics, and plas we get the real thing on screen, so i wanted to do something different...please keep reading...i love you!

Hopefully this chapter will keep you guys happy for a while...i prolly wont post for a couple of days, kinda busy. But i am about to get to the real juicy part of the story! So hold on to ya britches, I'm getting there! Please read and review, it means the world to me!.

Dont own friends...well you know the rest! MATT ROCKS!

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Rachel entered Apartment 20, yawning softly. It had been a long day, what with Chandler's appointment with Dr Mackenzie and all. Add that to the zero amount of sleep she had gotten the night before and the gruelling question and answer session that her friends had put both her and Chandler through -both before and after the appointment - and you had a rough day.

She was returning from Chandler and Joey's apartment, after spending some time talking to Chandler. He seemed to find it easier to confide in her then anyone else; she assumed that was because he had confided in her first, not by choice, but desperation.

Ross and Phoebe had gone home for the night, both offering comforting words to Chandler before they left. Rachel knew that wasn't really what Chandler wanted. He didn't want them to pity him; he just wanted everything to be normal, like it had been before this had all happened. She had agreed with him, but had told him that things wouldn't be like that, not for a while anyway. Chandler had reluctantly agreed with her.

Joey had sat with the two for a while, which neither Rachel nor Chandler minded. He was Chandler's best friend after all, and was just as upset about the whole situation as everyone else – possibly even more. Joey had a tendency to worry too much.

But he had drifted off to bed after a while, claiming that he had an early audition the next morning. Rachel wasn't sure if that was true, or if Joey was just feeling unnerved by the situation.

Chandler and Rachel had sat for a while longer; talking about the situation for a little while; about how scared Chandler was that he would have more dreams, not only about Nicole, but about a different person. What if he had a dream about one of them?

Rachel admitted that she hadn't thought about that, but it was a possibility. That thought hadn't exactly left them with warm and fuzzy feelings, so Rachel had changed the subject, asking about Chandler's childhood.

She had known him closely for over five years now, but had realised that she didn't know much about his life prior to them meeting. She knew some; the divorce, the hell his parents had put him through, things like that. But there were other things she didn't know, and he told her. She, in turn, had shared her deepest, darkest secrets. It had been a bit like they were having a teenage slumber party, she had thought at the time.

Rachel yawned once again, pouring herself a glass of water. Monica was nowhere to be seen, but her bedroom door was shut, so Rachel assumed she had gone to bed.

Monica had been quiet throughout the entire day, which had surprised Rachel, to say the least. She had never been known for being quiet, least of all during times like these. Rachel frowned. Something was obviously wrong with her. Anytime Monica was quiet, just like Chandler, there was something wrong with her.

Rachel crossed the room and knocked on the door gently.

"Mon?" she called.

"Yeah?" Monica answered a moment later, her voice sounding thick and strange.

"I'm coming in, okay?" Rachel didn't wait for an answer; she opened the door and walked in. "Oh Mon, what's wrong?"

Monica was sitting on her bed, her legs pulled up underneath her chin. She had tears running down her face.

"Nothing, I'm fine," Monica answered quickly, wiping the tears away. Rachel walked over and sat down next to her.

"No, you're not, you're crying."

"It's just…I-I'm really," Monica stammered.

"Worried?" Rachel supplied. Monica shook her head.

"No…well, yes, of course I am. But it's something else."

"What?" Rachel asked gently. Monica took a deep breath, then looked Rachel square in the eye.

"I'm in love with him Rach," she said softly. Rachel frowned.

"Who?"

"Chandler!" Monica exclaimed. "I love him! I have for a while."

"Oh!" Rachel's frown grew deeper. "Does he know?"

"God no!" Monica said loudly, shaking her head violently. "I don't want him to! It would change everything!"

"Well, yes, but maybe for the better," Rachel said after a moment.

"What do you mean?" Monica asked tiredly.

"Mon, have you ever considered the possibility that Chandler might feel the same way?"

Monica shook her head once again. "No, he doesn't. I know he doesn't. I can read Chandler really well; I know when he has feelings for someone. Maybe in a different universe he might have felt something for me, but not in this one. I'm just a friend to him." Monica's voice was barely a whisper, and the tears were threatening to fall once again. Rachel's heart broke for her.

"Maybe you should talk to him anyway? There is still a chance, you know," she said softly.

"No, I can't talk to him about this, it's too hard. He has enough on his plate at the moment," Monica murmured. "Besides, he's in love with someone else."

"Who?" Rachel asked, surprised. "Kathy? He's still in love with Kathy?" Rachel felt a bolt of anger shoot through her at the thought of Kathy. She had been so angry with Kathy after what she had done to Chandler. Sure, Chandler had jumped to the wrong conclusion and assumed that she had been having an affair, but that didn't give her the right to actually _have _an affair. They had, after all, still been dating.

"No, it's not Kathy…that bitch." Rachel smiled slightly. Apparently Monica shared her view on the woman.

"Is it Janice?" she asked in horror. Monica let out a short laugh.

"No!" she exclaimed. "God, could you imagine?"

"Well, then who is it?"

"Rachel, you are so blind," Monica said softly, smiling at her friend. Rachel frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"Chandler's in love with you."

It was Rachel's turn to let out a laugh.

"Very funny, Mon."

"I'm serious Rach. Chandler is in love with you! I don't know if he knows it yet, but he is head over heels in love with you!" Monica insisted. "Why do you think he confides in you about everything? Or is comforted when you touch him? Why do you think he watches you when he doesn't think anyone is looking?"

Rachel's brow furrowed. She had caught him on many occasions, staring at her. That had been even before the dreams had started.

"Oh my god," Rachel whispered. Monica was right. Chandler loved her.

"He has loved you for a long time Rachel," Monica said softly. "That's why I can't talk to him."

"I-I don't know what to say…you think he doesn't know?"

"I'm sure he doesn't. Chandler may be smart in every other aspect, but when it comes to love, he's clueless. You know that as well as I do."

Rachel smiled. She did know that. How many times had she sat there, waiting for Chandler to realise that he was interested in a girl? She had lost count.

"He's a lot like a certain best friend I know," Monica mused. Rachel's head whipped around.

"What?" she exclaimed. Monica rolled her eyes.

"Oh, for god sakes Rach, do I have to explain everything to you!"

"You think I'm in love with Chandler?" Rachel hissed.

"No, I _know _you're in love with Chandler. Jeez Rach, it's so obvious that _Ben_ could figure it out!" Monica leaned forward, a smile on her face. "Chandler's not the only one who looks when he thinks no one knows. I've lost count how many times I've caught you looking."

Rachel stared at Monica, a bewildered look on her face. Did she love Chandler? Sure, she looked sometimes, Chandler was adorable, but she had always thought that was the extent of it. Chandler was cute; anyone could see that. But here Monica was, telling her she was in love with him. Did she love him?

"You're right," Rachel whispered. "I think I do love him."

Monica nodded, a slightly smug look on her face. "I told you. Now, get to bed; I'm sure we have a big day tomorrow, what with explaining to our bosses exactly _why _we didn't go to work today."

"Tomorrow is a Saturday," Rachel said absentmindedly.

"Yeah, we'll just because you don't have to work on weekends, doesn't mean that I don't. Now, scoot."

Rachel stood up and made her way to the door.

"I'm sorry Monica," she whispered.

"For what?"

"That Chandler doesn't love you…I'm sorry." Monica shrugged, a sad look on her face.

"I've had to deal with that fact for a long time Rach. And I don't blame you. No one can choose who they love," she said simply. Rachel nodded.

"Goodnight," she said softly and left the room.

"Night," Monica called. She got up and closed the door behind Rachel. Once she was certain that Rachel was out of earshot, she started crying again.

No one can choose who they love.

She just wished that Chandler had chosen differently.


	13. Chapter 13

phew! once again, was meant to be a short chapter...eh, i should expect this to happen now. I had looked through my chapters and realised that, while i had quite a bit of Chandler and Joey moments, i didnt have as many as i desired, so i wrote this for...well, my own benefit, but im sure there are quite a few other people out there who enjoy Joey and Chandler's friendship..thats all it is! No slash! Oh, and while we are on the subject of romance, thank you for the review kristy, but there will be no Monica/Chandler...I'm sorry, but we see enough of our favourite couple on the show, and as much as i love them, i wanted to try something different. I will try to make it clearer that Monica know's she isnt going to get him, and will be very happy if Rach and Chan do get together. After all, the man she loves would be happy in that case. Thats not saying that Rach and Chan _will _get together though hehe...ive said too much. And i will bring in Ross soon to have that little talk...maybe! Enjoy! I love your reviews, please continue!

I do not own friends nor any of the actors but i wouldnt mind having Matt Perry in my care...or the other two guys for that matter!

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Joey sighed in frustration, rolling over once more. The clock read 3:48am, and the red numbers seemed to be mocking him.

He had gone to bed reasonably early, hoping to catch up on some sleep. For over a week now, Joey had stayed up late, worrying about his best friend. But now that Chandler was finally getting some help, Joey had thought that he would be able to sleep.

Apparently he had been wrong, he thought as the clock clicked over to 3:49. Joey groaned in annoyance. He might as well have stayed up later and talked with Rachel and Chandler. Not that he had particularly enjoyed the talk they had been having.

Joey had been trying to get Chandler to open up for a while; to talk about his problems. Now that he finally was, Joey discovered that he found the subject unsettling. When he hadn't known, Joey was only able to assume what Chandler was going through, but hearing his best friend speak about the dreams in such detail, well it was something that Joey couldn't have prepared for. He had ended up muttering something about having an early audition in the morning, and then quickly went into his room and shut the door.

Joey had never been one to cry; worry yes, but not cry. It wasn't that he was afraid to show his emotions; he had at numerous times. It's just that, being the only male out of eight children, his father had brought him up to be all man. He cried on occasions, but not what you would call regularly.

But after leaving Rachel and Chandler, Joey had crawled into bed, and cried. Not big, heart wrenching sobs, merely tears trickling constantly down his cheeks.

Joey had never felt this useless in his life. His best friend was hurting and he couldn't do a damn thing to stop it. How had he thought that he would be able to sleep?

Chandler getting help didn't mean that Chandler was all better; that he was back to normal. Things would never be back to normal.

The tears had stopped hours ago, and yet Joey still couldn't sleep. His mind was going at a million miles a minute; something that was rare for Joey. The others were putting on this big façade; pretending that everything was alright now. He knew that they were just as worried as he was, and wondered if everyone else was lying in bed, eyes wide open. He wondered if Chandler was awake; terrified of falling asleep again.

Joey knew that everyone was worried that the dreams would continue. He didn't see why they should; Nicole was dead, it was over and done with. But Chandler had had the dream the night before; after finding out that she was dead. Who knew if he would have it again? Joey hoped to hell that he wouldn't, but deep inside he knew that the dreams would most likely return. It was like the world was against Chandler; as if God was playing a sick joke on him. Joey bit his lip at the thought of that.

Chandler didn't deserve this. He hadn't asked for it. But he had gotten it, and simple things that people took for granted terrified him. He was afraid to fall asleep, or to even close his eyes, knowing that the image of Nicole dying would be there to greet him. Chandler had told both Joey and Rachel that earlier that night. After Joey had gone to bed, he had heard Chandler and Rachel talking more about his fears, and that had just upset Joey all the more.

"Damnit," Joey whispered, tears springing to his eyes once more. The clock now read 3:54, and he was no closer to falling asleep. Nor was he closer to stopping his worrying.

Joey hadn't heard any noise from the room next to him all night. He knew that could mean three things; Chandler was awake, Chandler was dreamless, or Chandler was about to have a dream. Joey hoped to god that it was the middle option. Then maybe things would be able to get back to normal.

He strained his ears, listening intently to the silence that engulfed the apartment. He thought he could hear Chandler breathing, but it was possible that it was just the wind. Or in his head, Joey thought miserably. He was suddenly filled with desperation over Chandler; he had to know if he was awake or not. That way, if he did know, he could either talk to Chandler; comfort him if he was awake. Or he could go back to bed, content with Chandler's dreamless state, and hopefully get a little shut eye himself.

The time was now 3:59. Joey climbed out of bed and quickly made his way out into the lounge room. He silently made his way over to Chandler's door. The two usually slept with their doors closed, but because of the recent events, Chandler's was open. Joey's would have been too, if he hadn't gone to bed before Rachel and Chandler.

Joey could hear Chandlers breathing, deep and even. He peeked into the darkened room and saw that Chandler's eyes were shut. Joey breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God. Now he could go and get some sleep of his own, and then start getting things back to normal. Joey smiled, watching Chandler for a minute longer. He could only imagine what his friend would think if he opened his eyes right now. Chandler had never liked people watching him sleep, and had started to despise it after the whole Eddie incident. Joey couldn't begin to picture how creepy it must be; he had only ever woken up to find women looking at him, and he expected that. Joey's smile grew wider as he watched Chandler unconsciously itch his nose. Things were going to be okay, he told himself as he turned and walked back to his room. Things were going to be just fine.

The clock read 4:07 as Joey got back into bed, still smiling to himself. He was so tired, but he knew he could sleep now.

A low moan interrupted the silence minutes later. Joey's eyes snapped open, his stomach tightening at the noise. Shit.

An earth shattering scream followed moments later, effectively ruining the silence. Joey scrambled out of bed and ran into the room next door. Chandler was thrashing around in bed, his face and body dripping with sweat as the screams grew louder. Joey was horrified; he had been fine just minutes ago.

"Chandler! Chandler wake up!" he yelled, rushing forward and grabbing Chandler's arms tightly.

"No!" Chandler screamed, freeing his left arm. It lashed out, effectively hitting Joey in the face. He fell back, sitting there in shock for just a moment before leaning over Chandler once again.

"Chandler! Wake up!" he repeated, dodging the flailing arms as he shook his friends body roughly. Chandler stopped screaming and writhing suddenly, but his eyes remained tightly shut. A low guttural moan escaped his lips, and he arched his back as if in pain.

"Chandler?" Joey whimpered, on the verge of tears. It had never been this bad before. "Chandler!"

Chandler's eyes snapped open with a gasp, and he shot up in bed, panting wildly.

"It's okay," Joey soothed, rubbing his friends arm in comfort. Chandler looked at him for a moment, then leaned into Joey's body.

"I guess that answer's our question," Chandler panted as Joey wrapped his arms around his trembling friend.

"What question?" Joey asked softly. A hollow laugh escaped Chandler's lips.

"On whether or not the dreams were going to stop," he whispered, his voice hitching slightly. Joey held his friend tighter as the tears came once more. "Oh god Joey, I don't think I can go through that again!" Chandler sobbed into Joey's chest. "It hurts so much!"

"I know," Joey whispered, burying his face into Chandler's hair.

"When is this going to end?" Chandler whimpered. Joey didn't answer; he couldn't. He couldn't lie to Chandler, and pretend that everything was going to be alright. He knew now that that wouldn't be the case. Not for a long time anyway. Chandler looked up, smiling slightly through his tears; blood streaming from his nose once more. "Lie to me. Tell me that it's going to be okay," he whispered, his lips trembling. Joey smiled back, but it was forced.

"It's gonna be okay Chan," he said softly. Chandler smiled and buried his face into Joey's shirt once more.

"I got blood on your shirt," he said with a shaky voice. Joey shook his head.

"It doesn't matter," he whispered. Chandler nodded, clinging to his friend as if his very life depended on it. It was possible that Chandler thought it did. Joey looked down at his shaking, sweating and crying friend and his heart ached. This was a side that Joey never wanted to see of _anyone, _least of all Chandler. No one should be in this much pain, he thought as Chandler's grip on his shirt tightened.

Joey had never been one to cry, but for the second time that night, the tears came.


	14. Chapter 14

okay well, i am exhausted after writing this! It took forever, and parts of it were quite difficult, but i soldiered on. I'm like the energizer bunny, i just keep going! I know that people love long chapters, so ya'all are gonna love this one! It's like 1000 words longer than any of my other ones, so please enjoy! I will hopefully get a new chapter up by tomorrow, but maybe later cause i may have a bit of trouble writing the next chapter. I gotta do some research on some...stuff! So please read and enjoy, and KEEP REVIEWING! 

I dont own friends/actors/characters but i do bow down to the wonder of Matthew Langford Perry, and bathe in his greatness

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Ross walked quickly to the door of Apartment 20, yawning loudly. He hadn't slept much the night before, instead choosing to worry about Chandler. Well, he hadn't _chosen _to, he hadn't had much of a choice. His brain did whatever it wanted to; he was merely just an observer.

Ross had acted calm throughout this whole ordeal, but underneath it all, he was terrified to his very core. He had known Chandler for years, and it scared him that his oldest friend was going through something this horrific.

His friend's were putting on a brave front, but Ross knew that it upset them just as much; possibly more so for Joey and Rachel. That confused him. Joey being that upset he could understand, but Chandler and Rachel had never been as close as the two roommates. They had been close, yes, but never _that _close. It was only recently that things had started to change between the two. Ross had a feeling he knew why, and the thought saddened him.

He and Rachel had broken up a while ago, and on some level Ross knew that they would never get back together again. But every now and then he wondered if that was entirely true. He knew he still loved Rachel; he always would. He knew that, on some level, Rachel would always love him too. She showed that every now and then. But now she seemed to have feelings for Chandler.

Ross could understand that; she and Chandler had similar interests then her and Ross. They connected in a different way then Ross and Rachel ever had. And Ross knew that Chandler had never once bored Rachel while talking about something he was interested in. Ross, on the other hand, had once put Rachel to sleep by talking about a part of a dinosaur's skeletal structure.

He could also understand the sudden interest. Chandler was hurting, and Rachel wanted to make it stop; to take care of him. She obviously cared about him a lot.

"Ross?" Ross blinked at the sound of his name being called. The object of his thoughts was standing in the doorway, staring at him. "You okay? You were just standing there, staring into space." Ross let out a short laugh, the one he did when he was nervous or embarrassed.

"Yeah, I'm fine Rach, I was just thinking," he told her. She nodded, glancing over his shoulder towards Apartment 19. "I was just heading in to see you and Mon."

"Oh, well, I'm going to check on Chandler, but Monica is in there, making breakfast," Rachel informed him.

"Hi Ross!" Monica's voice called from inside.

"Hi Mon!" Ross called back, smiling. Rachel grinned, once again looking over his shoulder.

"So, you're going to check on Chandler?" he asked. She nodded.

"Yeah, I need to know if he had another dream. I thought I heard something last night, but I wasn't sure. I was going to go check on him, but I thought I might be overreacting slightly," she laughed. "I'm sure Joey would have heard him, and plus I'm not so sure Chandler would appreciate waking up with me on his bed if there wasn't a problem." Ross frowned at that statement. Not because of the words, but because of the way she said it. She sounded like she wanted Chandler to wake up to find her on his bed. Or possibly in. Ross frown grew deeper. She loved him, he thought dejectedly. She loved Chandler, and she had moved on, away from Ross. He now knew that it would never happen. He and Rachel were never going to happen again. It was time for him to also move on. He loved Rachel, but if he couldn't have her, he wanted her to be happy. And he wanted Chandler to be happy.

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind waking up with you there," Ross said, a sad smile spreading across his face. Rachel laughed, running her hand through her hair nervously.

"You think?" she said softly.

"Yeah." Rachel studied his face carefully for a moment.

"Would you be okay with that?" she asked gently. Ross smiled.

"Yeah, I would," he whispered. Rachel nodded, smiling slightly. "I'm giving you my blessing, not that you need it. I don't own you after all. You do whatever makes you happy."

"That means the world to me Ross," Rachel murmured. Ross nodded.

"I know." Rachel smiled at him, then reached up and gave him a peck on the cheek.

"Enjoy breakfast," she commanded, a bright smile on her face. He grinned back, watching her walk past and enter Apartment 19. He had just given up on Rachel; the love of his life. And it didn't hurt as much as he thought it would. His smile grew wider as he entered the girls' apartment, the smell of bacon wafting in the air.

Rachel crossed the dark apartment carefully, being as quiet as possible. It was still early, and she knew that it was likely that neither Joey nor Chandler were up. If Joey had been telling the truth about the audition, maybe, but Rachel was pretty sure that had been a lie. She stepped up to Chandler's room and peeked inside. What she saw was something that she wasn't expecting.

Joey was sitting back against the wall, his eyes shut. Lying against his chest, arms gently wrapped around him, was Chandler. Rachel moved forward, a small frown on her face. There was dried blood underneath Chandler's nose and on Joey's shirt, and as she got closer, she could see a light bruise on Joey's cheek. Judging from what she was seeing, last night hadn't gone to well. Rachel's foot found a squeaky floorboard, one that she had forgotten about from when she and Monica had reluctantly lived here. The sudden noise caused Joey's eye's to flutter open, but thankfully Chandler's remained closed.

"Hey Rach," Joey whispered.

"Hey," she whispered back. "What's going on?"

"Dream," Joey answered needlessly. Rachel had already guessed that. "He was truly terrified this time Rach; crying and shaking for half the night. He only fell asleep about an hour ago." Rachel's heart sank at his words.

"They're getting worse?" she asked softly. Joey nodded. Rachel bit her lip to keep from cursing loudly, and took a few deep breaths. "Jesus Joe, what if they never stop?" she said tearfully. Joey sighed.

"I don't know," he murmured. "But I don't think he will be able to take much more of this. He was in so much pain; it was physically hurting him. He was clinging to me as if his life depended on it." Joey looked down at the still figure in his arms, and Rachel caught the flash of anguish on his face. Joey was hurting just as much as she was; possibly even more. The two boys had been closer for a lot longer then she and Chandler had. "He told me to lie to him Rach. To tell him that everything was gonna be okay. I did that, but what if everything is never okay?"

"Joe, I don't know what to say," Rachel answered truthfully. Joey nodded, then yawned. "How much sleep have you had?"

"None," Joey admitted. "I couldn't sleep before Chandler had the dream, and I was only dozing when you came in." Rachel nodded.

"Why don't you go lie down in your bed?" she suggested. "See if you can get some sleep. I'll man the station here." Joey smirked at her choice of words. He was glad that they could still make jokes. "And maybe change your shirt. The blood isn't very becoming."

"Yeah…I don't know why he keeps getting blood noses, "Joey murmured. "We'll have to ask Dr Mackenzie." Rachel nodded, and watched as Joey carefully slid out from underneath Chandler. Her heart broke as Joey gently untangled Chandler's hand from his shirt. Chandler had been grasping Joey's top like a child would to a parents after a scary dream. It occurred to her once more just how vulnerable Chandler was at the moment. Joey lay Chandler down flat on the bed, then turned to Rachel.

"Night Rach," Joey said softly, walking past her and out the door. "Well, morning really."

"Sweet dreams," Rachel called after him.

"We can only hope." Rachel frowned at Joey's words as she settled down on the bed. She ran her hand across Chandler's forehead, then reached down and grasped his hand gently. Chandler instinctively wrapped his fingers around hers, unconsciously moving closer to her. Rachel sighed. Sweet dreams.

They could only hope.

Chandler opened his eyes slowly two hours later, squinting in the late morning sun. He gazed up at Rachel, a bewildered look on his face. Rachel smiled at his confusion.

"You're not the person I fell asleep next to," Chandler muttered, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. "Although you are much more attractive." Rachel laughed gently, a light blush spreading across her cheeks.

"I'm going to tell Joey you said that," she teased. Chandler smiled slightly, sitting up.

"I'm sure he agrees with me; he's not that vain," he joked back. Rachel laughed again.

"I suppose he told you what happened last night?" Chandler asked softly after a moment's silence. Rachel smiled grimly, then nodded.

"Yeah, he did," she murmured. Chandler sighed.

"I feel so weak; so defenceless," he muttered. "I just couldn't stop crying or shaking. That isn't very manly huh?"

"Chandler, no one expects you to be manly; now or any other time," she joked gently. Chandler smirked.

"I know that, but I just wish I could be, you know? I feel so pathetic sometimes," he murmured. Rachel shook her head violently.

"You're not pathetic Chandler," she insisted.

"I know that too; I just feel that way sometimes. I mean, God, I spent half the night crying and clinging to Joey like he was my life support! And I hit him! I can't believe that!"

"Joey doesn't care about that, he just wants you to be okay," Rachel whispered. "I'm sure you didn't hurt him on purpose." Chandler nodded.

"Yeah, he was trying to wake me up," Chandler paused, rubbing his face. "I know that Joey would never be ashamed of me, and that I am lucky that it was him. I don't think Ross or Phoebe would have treated me so gently."

"I'm sure they would have Chan; we all would have," Rachel said softly. "We all love you, and we want to help. Nobody expects you to be strong. We don't care if you are a mess; with what you are going through, you _deserve _to have a few crying spells."

Chandler nodded, staring down at their hands, intertwined once again. "I'm hungry," he said suddenly. Rachel grinned, glancing at the clock.

"Well, Monica doesn't have to go to work for three more hours; what do you say we go over there? I'm sure she wouldn't mind fixing you some late breakfast. Or early lunch, whichever you choose to call it."

"We'll call it brunch," Chandler said decisively. Rachel nodded and ruffled his hair affectionately.

"Come on you, let's get you fed!" she pulled Chandler out of the bed and towards the door.

"Uh Rach? Can I get dressed first?" Rachel glanced at Chandler to find him clad in just boxers and a shirt.

"Yeah, good idea. I'll wait outside." She stepped out into the living room, closing the once broken door behind her. A smile spread across her face. Although the day had started off badly, with Chandler having another horrible dream, she had a feeling that it would be a good day. She was determined that it would be a good day. She was going to do whatever she could to make Chandler happy.

It was going to be a good day, she was sure of it.

An hour and a half later they were sitting on Monica and Rachel's couch, watching, to no one's surprise, Die Hard. Chandler was sitting between Joey and Rachel; leaning slightly on Joey, while Rachel leaned against him. Brunch had been enjoyable, and everyone seemed to be in good spirits; even Chandler. Joey was in high spirits as well, although he had only slept for an hour. He had still been worried about Chandler, but had managed to rest a bit. Seeing Chandler now, as happy as he had been for a while, made Joey happy too. He was sure that was why everyone else was happy. Things were starting to look up, Joey thought, turning away from Bruce Willis to look at his best friend. Chandler had his eyes closed tightly, his face scrunched up in pain. Joey's heart sank. Things had been going so well.

"You okay?" Joey asked gently. Chandler opened his eyes and glanced at his friend.

"Yeah, just another headache," he muttered, closing his eyes once again. He could feel Rachel and Monica's eyes boring into him, joining Joeys. "I'm fine."

Rachel sighed next to him. They were back to fine, she thought. She glanced at Monica, who immediately picked up the remote and switched that movie off. Chandler opened his eyes and stared at the blank screen.

"Is that better?" Rachel asked gently. Chandler nodded.

"Yeah, a bit," he mumbled. His three friends exchanged a worried glance between them. They should have picked something else to watch; something with less things blowing up. Rachel's gaze grew critical as she looked at Joey. He had chosen the movie. Joey shrugged defensively in response. Chandler had wanted to watch it as well, he thought to himself. Monica rolled her eyes at the two, and leaned forward.

"There's some aspirin in the bathroom. I can get it if you like?" she suggested. Chandler smiled.

"Thanks, but I can get it. I'm not a complete invalid, you know," he joked, standing up slowly. Joey smirked.

"Then why do you act that way?" Joey shot back, grinning suddenly. Chandler laughed lightly.

"Very funny," he said dryly, making his way to the bathroom. Rachel had watched the exchange, at first apprehensive about Joey's behaviour. But once Chandler had laughed, her apprehension had turned into amusement. She was glad that Chandler could still laugh at his own expense. Things really did seem like they were getting back to normal. She had noticed today, when Ross had been here, that he and the others hadn't been tiptoeing around Chandler as much. She wasn't sure how Phoebe would treat him; Phoebe hadn't been by today. But Rachel was sure that Chandler was thankful for the slight sense of normalcy.

Rachel glanced over at Chandler. He still looked a bit pale and shaken up, but that was understandable from the lack of sleep, dreams and headaches. Not to mention the annoying blood noses that accompanied the dreams. Rachel caught Chandler's eye as her went to close the bathroom door, and they exchanged a smile. The door closed and Chandler was gone, but Rachel still found herself smiling.

Monica watched the scene, smiling as well. She had come to accept Rachel and Chandler's bond, just as Ross had done. The siblings had talked earlier that day, and they had both decided to move on. Monica knew it would be hard, but she also knew that she was grateful that Rachel was the one stealing Chandler's heart. Better her than some random woman, or slut as Monica would most likely call her. Or Janice, she thought with a shudder. Yes, she much preferred Rachel with Chandler. At least she knew that Rachel would take care of him.

Monica reached over and grasped Rachel's hand gently. Rachel smiled back, squeezing her hand. Joey watched, a smile spreading across his face.

"Now kiss her," he urged.

"Joey!" the girls exclaimed at the same time. Joey laughed, but his laughter was cut short by a loud crash. The three once again exchanged worried looks before leaping to their feet and rushing to the bathroom.

"Chandler!" Rachel called frantically as they ran.

"Chan?" Joey shouted. They reached the door and Rachel pushed it open.

"Oh my god," she shrieked, rushing forward.

"Joey, call an ambulance!" Monica ordered. "Now!"

Joey nodded in horror, rushing off as Rachel bent down next to Chandler's convulsing body. His eyes were straight ahead, unseeing.

"Oh my god, Monica," Rachel whimpered. "What's happening?"

"He's having a seizure," Monica explained tearfully.

"What do we do?" Rachel watched as Monica wracked her brain for the answer. She had learnt what to do a long time ago

"We just ride it out," she remembered suddenly, and reached behind her. "Here."

Rachel took the toilet brush from Monica, her eyes quizzical. "Put this between his teeth. So he doesn't bite his tongue."

"A toilet brush!" Rachel shrieked.

"It's the only thing I could find!"

Rachel gently reached over with shaking hands and put the brush into Chandler's mouth, careful to keep the brush part away from his lips. She then sat back, afraid to touch him, and started to cry. Monica wrapped her arms around Rachel, and Rachel noticed that she was crying as well. A sob escaped Rachel's lips as she stared at Chandler's seizing body.

She had never been this scared in her entire life.


	15. Chapter 15

and the chapters keep getting longer and longer! Phew i wrote this one quick, decided to save the medical mumbo jumbo til the next chapter hehe, i decided to get some quality 'friends' stuff before the bombshell if ya know what i mean! So please enjoy, and i promise i will update soon! Please read and reveiw! And ignore any little mistakes, i wrote this in just over an hour, with people talking to me! 

I dont own friends/actors/characters, but i do have Matt Perry fever!

* * *

Phoebe was feeling a strong sense of déjà vu.

She was sitting in an unbelievably uncomfortable chair with her friends, waiting for news about Chandler. But this time, they weren't waiting to find out how his appointment with Dr Mackenzie had gone. They were waiting to find out what the hell was going on.

Phoebe had been massaging one of her favourite clients; Mrs. Harris, an elderly woman who had lost her husband the year before. She had been enjoying chatting to Mrs. Harris and had been interrupted by her phone ringing. On the other end was Joey; his voice panicked and shrill. Phoebe had been able to make out the words Chandler, hospital and hurry. From that she had been able to work out that something was wrong with Chandler, he was in the hospital and that she should get there as soon as possible.

So Phoebe had apologised to Mrs. Harris, telling her that she had a family emergency. That wasn't far from the truth. Besides her grandma - who had passed away only weeks ago - and Ursula, Phoebe had not had much of a family for a long time. She considered her friends her family and Chandler like a younger brother.

That's what she had told Mrs. Harris as she had ushered the lady out the door. The elderly woman had asked her what sort of family emergency and Phoebe had said that her little brother was very sick.

Phoebe's heart ached at the thought of that. She had thought that the dreams were a gift, but had begun to doubt that as they got worse and worse. Now, she didn't believe that at all. Chandler could have died today. How could she have thought the dreams were a gift?

She had been so stupid, thinking that. And now Chandler was in that little room, lying on that bed, and all she could think was why? Why was this happening to him? To them? They were family, so whatever hurt one, hurt the rest. Phoebe chewed her lip anxiously, staring at her trembling hands. She should have seen this coming. She usually predicted things like this, but now it seemed her skills had failed her. Chandler was the one that predicted things now. Phoebe sighed. She wished that it had happened to her instead. She was used to seeing terrible things in dreams; she could have prepared for it. And she was sure that if it _had _happened to her, she wouldn't be this scared.

Phoebe glanced around the room at her friends. Joey wasn't there; it was his turn to sit with Chandler. Rachel had been first. That should have surprised her, but it didn't. Phoebe may not have been predicting things, but she could still see things that others did not. There had been something between Rachel and Chandler for a long time; much longer then Monica had loved him.

Joey had been slightly put off when Rachel had gone first. He was slow on the uptake sometimes, Phoebe mused to herself. He didn't realise what was going on between the two. Monica had taken him aside and talked quietly with him, and Joey had returned looking less annoyed. He had even given Rachel a small smile as they had passed in the hallway; Rachel leaving Chandler's room, Joey entering.

Phoebe's gaze settled on Rachel. She was flipping through a People magazine, but Phoebe knew that she wasn't reading it. She watched as Rachel's lower lip began to tremble, and she covered her mouth with her right hand. Monica reached over and took Rachel's free hand, squeezing it gently.

Monica was terrified and devastated; the thought of losing Chandler lingering in her mind. Throughout the entire time Chandler had been having these dreams, that thought had never entered her mind. She knew that he thought he was losing his mind, and that had worried her. She had wondered if he was going crazy; climbing the walls as he had put it. She had worried that he _was_ losing his mind, but had never thought once that he might lose his life too. What troubled Monica even more was that she wasn't sure which was worse; losing his mind or his life? She sighed and glanced over at Ross.

Ross couldn't believe it. He had been enjoying the afternoon at Carol's and Susan's, playing with his son. The thought of Chandler had finally left his mind, but it had come rushing back with one phone call. Ross had never heard Joey's voice like that, and he had fled to the hospital, after taking a quick moment to explain to Carol and say goodbye to Ben.

Ross should have figured out that this might have happened. He was meant to be the smart one of the group. He should have come up with a hundred different possibilities as to why his friend was hurting so much. But Ross had chosen not to, because he knew that out of those hundred different possibilities, not one ended with a happy ending. He should have thought; maybe if he had, they would have taken Chandler to the hospital earlier, and the seizure would never have happened.

Ross sighed. Headaches, blood noses, audio hallucinations and now seizures. He could think of a few possibilities as to what they meant, but tried to ignore them. He especially tried to ignore the one that was pushing its way through all the others, demanding to be taken notice of. If Ross ignored it, then maybe it wasn't true.

He glanced at Rachel, wondering what she was thinking about.

Rachel was replaying 'The Lion King' in her head, desperate to take her mind off Chandler. Why she had chosen that particular movie she wasn't sure. Maybe it was because it had cheered her up when she was feeling down. Rachel didn't know. What she did know was that it wasn't working. Chandler kept pushing his way into her head. God she wished she could stop thinking about him. It hurt so much.

She had felt so helpless, watching his body convulse. For a moment, she had thought they were going to lose him. And then the moment had passed, and she hadn't known what to think. She still didn't. All she knew was that she was terrified.

She sighed, glancing up at the door for Room 217, Chandler's room. She wished that she was back in there, but knew that Joey had as much right to sit with him; possibly even more. He was Chandler's best friend after all. But still, she wished that she was in there, looking after him. She wondered if Chandler was awake, or if he was sleeping. She hoped that if he was, it was a dreamless sleep. But once again, she knew that was unlikely. The dreams were like a cancer, and it seemed that no matter what they tried, they would never be able to remove the cancer. Rachel stared miserably at the door. It hurt her that she didn't know what was happening.

Was he dreaming? Was Nicole dying once more, or was it someone new. Rachel sighed. She wouldn't find out the answer for a while, she knew that. She glanced up at Phoebe, who was also staring at the door.

They needed to know what was going on in there.

The blade penetrated her chest with a sickening thud, and came with more pain then Nicole had ever thought was possible. She screamed as loud as she could muster, which turned out as a choked gasp. The blade had pierced her lung, and she could feel both her oxygen and her life slipping away.

Something warm was running down her chin, and her throat was burning and bubbling with a thick liquid. She was coughing up blood, she realised.

"Help me," Nicole whispered pitifully. "Help me."

Chandler awoke with a gasp, his eyes immediately taking in his surroundings. The only thing that looked familiar was Joey, who looked relieved.

"Hey," Joey said softly, his voice thick with emotion.

"Joey," Chandler croaked, staring at his friend in confusion. He cleared his throat then continued. "What…"

"You're in the hospital," Joey explained gently. Chandler frowned, perplexed.

"I-I had a headache?" he asked, slowly remembering. Joey nodded.

"Yeah, while we were watching Die Hard," he said quietly. Chandler shook his head.

"You don't go to hospital for a headache." His voice was still hoarse, thick with sleep.

"No," Joey agreed.

"Then what…"

"You had a seizure," Joey explained quickly. Chandler stared at his friend, taking a moment to register what he had said.

"Because of the dreams?" he asked after a beat.

"We don't know," Joey admitted. "The doctors have run a few tests; taking some blood and stuff. They also did one of those CAT scan thingies and something called a MRI. They think that maybe there is something wrong with your brain, and that's what is causing the dreams and headaches. And seizure."

"Seizure," Chandler muttered. "Epilepsy?" Joey frowned. He didn't like the way that Chandler was talking; the way his sentences were clipped and stilted. Chandler usually spoke well, with his sentences flowing into one another. That was not the case here, and it had Joey worried.

"I don't know man, they're looking into it," he said softly. Chandler nodded, closing his eyes.

"Nicole died again," he whispered. Joey nodded, smiling grimly.

"I know; you seemed a bit uneasy just before you woke up. I assumed you were having another dream."

"How long?"

"Have you been here?" Chandler inclined his head. "About five hours. They did a lot of tests on you, and they only let us start seeing you about an hour ago. Rachel was in first, and then me."

"The girls," Chandler murmured. "They were there."

"When you had the seizure?" Joey asked, stumbling a bit over the word 'seizure'. He didn't like saying it; he didn't want it to be true.

"Yeah….they okay?"

"They're worried," Joey said softly. "But I think they are okay. The others are in the waiting room." Chandler nodded, his eyes fluttering shut.

"Tired," he whispered. Joey nodded forlornly. He hated seeing Chandler like this.

"Go back to sleep," he instructed. "Hopefully we will have some answers when you wake up."

Joey watched as Chandler quickly drifted off to sleep; his breathing becoming slow and even. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face tiredly.

He hated this.

Chandler opened his eyes a while later and he glanced around the room once again. Monica had replaced Joey, and she was dozing in the chair. Chandler turned his attention to the machine next to him. He didn't understand what a lot of the things meant, but he did figure out that his pulse was pretty strong. Chandler was thankful for that. He looked down at his hand, surprised to find an IV drip attached to him. Chandler didn't like needles much, so he was glad that he had been unconscious when that had been put in. He wasn't sure exactly _why _it was in there though. To his knowledge they were only put in patients who were dehydrated or in a coma or something like that. Maybe his fluid intake was low. Or maybe he was wrong and they put them in all patients. He wasn't sure why he was dwelling on it; he didn't really care why it was in there. He wanted it out though.

His mind wandered back to when Joey had been there. He remembered his head had felt so fuzzy, and he couldn't think straight. He couldn't even get out coherent sentences without getting confused. Chandler assumed that the hospital had given him some crazy drug that had that effect. He was glad that he could think straight now though, he had some thinking to do.

A seizure. He had had a god damn seizure. That was one thing Chandler had never expected to happen. It was one thing that Chandler had _hoped _would never happen. Seizures usually meant that there was something wrong with his brain, which was never a good thing.

If it was epilepsy, that was okay. It would be hard to deal with but he would get through it. There was a way to treat epilepsy. He could most likely think of a lot of other reason's why he had had a seizure, and it was likely that they wouldn't be as easy to treat.

He frowned, a sudden thought entering his mind. What if it was something fatal? What if he died? Chandler's breath hitched in his throat at the thought, and the small noise caused Monica to stir.

"Hey! You're awake again," she said happily.

"Hi," Chandler said in a small voice. Monica smiled slightly, taking his unoccupied hand. Chandler glanced once more at the other hand; he wanted that thing out of him.

"It's just a precaution," Monica explained, following his gaze. Chandler nodded, still annoyed with the so called 'precaution'.

"So, I had a seizure," Chandler said in a conversational tone.

"So, you do remember talking to Joey," she said nodding. "He wasn't sure if you would. Said that you were a bit out of it." Chandler laughed flatly.

"Yeah, I think they pumped me full of some crazy drugs," he muttered.

"How are you feeling?" Monica asked after a beat. Chandler shrugged. He didn't really know how he was feeling.

"I'm not sure," he said softly after a moment's silence. "It's weird. I feel like I should be in pain or something, and I really don't think I am. My head still feels a bit spacey though."

"Well, doesn't it always feel like that?" Monica joked. Chandler laughed; a real laugh this time.

"You have a point there," he muttered, still smiling. He paused for a moment, then turned to face Monica, a serious expression on his face. "I'm scared Mon."

"I know sweetie; we all are," Monica soothed. "But you just have to remember that we are here for you. Whatever happens, we are not gonna leave you. We will beat this, I promise."

Chandler nodded, squeezing her hand gently.

"Thanks Mon," he whispered.

"Anytime." Monica reached over and straightened out Chandler's covers, then started fluffing his pillows.

"What are you doing?" Chandler asked.

"Just making you more comfortable."

"I'm fine Mon."

Monica laughed lightly, leaning back in her seat. "I know; I'm just being obsessive again." Chandler grinned and opened his mouth to reply.

"Mr Bing?" Chandler and Monica looked up to find a pretty redhead standing in the doorway. Chandler guessed that she was only a couple of years older then him.

"Dr Phillips," Monica greeted. Chandler raised his eyebrows in surprise. She was a doctor?

"Hello Monica," the doctor said, smiling warmly. "Mr Bing, I'm Dr Phillips, but you can call me Sarah if you like." Chandler nodded, smiling back. He liked her already. Although, he wasn't sure if he would in a minute, if she was here to be the bearer of bad news.

"Well, if I can call you Sarah then you can call me Chandler." Dr Phillip's smile grew wider.

"It's a deal. Monica, could you go and bring your friends in? I'm sure they will want to hear this too," she said, then frowned. "If that's alright with you Chandler?"

"Of course, I would tell them straight away anyway," Chandler said as Monica quickly walked out the room.

"I thought that would be the case," Dr Phillips said softly. Chandler smiled, glancing at the folder in her hand.

"You…you know what's wrong with me?" he asked nervously. She nodded.

"Yes; you sure you want to wait till the other's arrive?" Chandler frowned, then nodded. He had a feeling that it was bad news, and he knew that he would need his friends support.

"I have a feeling I will need them," Chandler said softly. Dr Phillips smiled again, but nothing on her face indicated that he was right.

"Chandler!" he looked up at the sound of his name being called, and smiled.

"Hey guys," he said softly as his friends entered the room. Greetings were exchanged between them, Chandler and the doctor, before the others sat down around his bed.

Rachel smiled warmly from her spot on the bed. She was sitting on one side; Joey on the other, while the other three had pulled up chair.

"How are you?" Rachel whispered.

"I don't really know," he whispered back. "I'm kinda nervous." Rachel nodded, and took his hand. He smiled, then glanced at Joey, who patted him on the shoulder.

"Okay Chandler, we did a lot of tests while you were unconscious; MRI's, CAT scan, etc. We also did some blood work and such," Dr Phillips explained. Chandler nodded, wishing she would get to the point already. The doctor must have sensed his impatience because she jumped right to the point.

"There is no use beating round the bush; I might as well get straight to the point," she said, smiling grimly.

"Chandler, you have a brain tumour."


	16. Chapter 16

alright, first and formost, i have to say that i revamped the last chapter and changed a couple of things (the amount of time Chandler had been unconcious for) because i figured it out to be about 10pm when the Doctor came in, and i didnt think that seemed right! So i changed it. Also have to apoligise to anybody with a medical degree: i did some research for this chapter, but it is highly likely that i got something wrong, so if you do see something a bit off, just smile and nod okay! Also have to apoligise to any 'Citizen Kane' and golf fans because...we'll you will see! I have never personally seen citizen kane, ive just heard people talk about it, and it was the first movie that popped into my head! So please enjoy this chap, its pretty long! and please read and review!

Dont own friends/characters/actors but you remember the hairy guy in 'the kid'? the one with Matt Perry eyes? his my boyfriend

* * *

Throughout his life, there had been many things that Chandler hadn't believed in.

He hadn't believed in precognition, nor did he believe in the paranormal. Chandler also had his doubts about reincarnation, although he did believe in God.

Another thing that he had never believed in was that time could be stopped. It had never seemed plausible to him, although he had seen it done many times on movies and TV, which according to Joey made it real. But to Chandler, time being altered in any way seemed against physics.

He had never believed that time could stop.

Until that day.

When Dr Phillips had uttered those words, Chandler had suddenly found himself a believer. It shouldn't have surprised him – he hadn't believed in precognition, but it was real – but it did. When those words were said, Chandler had felt the world stop. It lasted only a second, but he had felt it. Time then began once again, only it was a lot slower then usual.

Rachel's gasp seemed to last for an eternity. Monica's hand took forever to reach up and cover her mouth in shock. The colour took a lifetime to drain from Ross and Phoebe's faces. And Joey's hand tightened painfully on Chandler's shoulder for what felt like a millennium.

"W-What?" Chandler whispered, and time returned to normal.

"A brain tumour?" Ross asked in horror, though he knew he shouldn't have been that shocked. While in the waiting room, his brain had tried to tell him this; that it seemed most likely. Ross had ignored his brain, not wanting to hear it. It wasn't true. But now that it was coming from someone else's mouth, he knew that it was true. Chandler had a brain tumour.

"Yes. I'm sorry," Dr Phillip's said softly.

"W-What does this mean? I mean…can it be removed?" Ross spoke up after a long silence. He hadn't been sure if he could speak again, but when he realised that no one else was going to, he knew he had to. Dr Phillip's pursed her lips together grimly.

"I'm afraid not," she said in a quiet voice. Joey's head whipped up.

"What?" he hissed.

"The tumour is located in a place in Chandler's brain that is basically impossible to perform surgery on. If we did attempt it, Chandler would most likely be left in a vegetated state, or dead," the doctor explained. "We can't risk that happening."

"What about…radiation or chemotherapy?" Monica asked after a moment.

"There are many different types of brain tumours, and some can be treated with radiation therapy, while others cannot. Unfortunately Chandler's cannot be treated."

"So, there is nothing you can do? You're just gonna let him…" Joey trailed off, unable to complete the sentence.

"Chandler has a Grade 1 Astrocytoma tumour. Patients with these types of tumours have been known to live for 30 years, or more, following diagnosis."

"So, he's got a while?" Ross asked.

"Well, not all patients last that long; every one is different. Chandler could have another 30 years, or could only have 30 days. But the tumour is still quite small, so he most likely wont be going anywhere for a while," Dr Phillips said confidently.

"And this Astrocytoma, what does it cause?" Ross questioned, wanting to learn as much as possible. He needed to know this; they all did.

"The one symptom that it most commonly exhibits is the onset of epileptic seizures. That is caused by the tumour irritating the surrounding brain tissue. We can treat you for that, give you some pills to take, but it doesn't guarantee that you won't have another seizure. It also causes headaches, blood noses, and can sometimes lead to paralysis, personality changes, coma and death." Chandler flinched at her words, and Joey's grip once again tightened on his shoulder. "But because your tumour is still small, you should only expect headaches and blood noses for quite a while."

"And…and the dreams?" Phoebe asked softly. Dr Phillips nodded.

"There have been cases reported where brain tumours have resulted in some interesting side effects; precognition has been reported as one. There are many doctor's who do not believe in the special abilities that the patients sometimes exhibit. I do, and I believe that you're dreams are real Chandler."

Chandler opened his mouth to answer, then shut it again. He had no idea what to say. Dr Phillips seemed to understand.

"I will leave you too it. I'll be back tomorrow morning," she said, smiling kindly as she headed to the door. She paused in the doorway. "Try to look on the bright side. You are very lucky that it wasn't something much worse. But for what it's worth, I am sorry."

"Thankyou," Chandler whispered. Dr Phillips smiled, and then left the room. There was a long silence, everyone taking the time to process the information.

"At least we know what causes the dreams," Chandler said at last. A second later a sob escaped his lips. Joey gently pulled Chandler into his arms, as the tears came. Rachel leaned forward and hugged them both. Monica followed next. Soon, Chandler was in the middle of a group hug, his body shaking with sobs.

"We're here for you Chandler," Monica whispered in his ear. "What ever you need." "I know," Chandler whimpered. "Thankyou."

The cab ride home was silent; everyone lost in their thoughts. They hadn't wanted to leave the hospital, but visiting hours had been over and as much as they tried to get past the rules, they had eventually been reminded that they were no more special then any of the other visitors in the hospital. So they had reluctantly left Chandler, each offering words of support and promising they would be back in the morning. Phoebe had taken a different cab home, as she lived away from the rest. She had offered to come and stay with Joey, so he wouldn't be alone in the apartment, but Joey had declined, although he was grateful at the offer.

Ross had parted ways with the rest of them on the street, returning to his apartment reluctantly. The girls and Joey had slowly made their way upstairs, exhausted by the day it had become. And she had thought it was going to be a good day, Rachel thought sardonically as they reached their hallway.

"Well….goodnight," Joey said softly after a long, awkward silence.

"Joey…" Rachel started.

"Yeah?"

"You want us to come in? Or do you maybe want to come over?" Rachel asked softly. Joey shook his head, smiling slightly.

"Nah, I think I might just go to bed. It's been a long day," he murmured. The girls nodded. "Night."

"Night Joey," they called as he shut the door behind him. He walked over to the counter, pouring himself a glass of water. A brain tumour. A fucking brain tumour. Joey couldn't believe it. He raised the glass to his lips, thinking of early that morning, when he had rushed into Chandler's room to wake him. That seemed like an eternity ago, but it had only been around eighteen hours. Joey wanted so much for the dreams to be the only problem; for the brain tumour to not be real. Least the dreams couldn't kill his best friend. They could make him lose his mind though, Joey thought, furious with the whole situation. He wanted everything to be back to normal; for Chandler to go to work, be bored senseless then come home and watch Baywatch with Joey. He wanted Chandler to make them laugh; pay Joey out for wearing an Elf costume, or for being on a STD poster. He wanted the old Chandler back. Not the one they had now. Not the sick, distressed and pained person their friend had turned into; a shadow of his former self.

_Lie to me_

Joey's hand tightened on the glass.

_Tell me that it's going to be okay_

"Son of a bitch!" he screamed, hurling the glass against the wall above the sink. It shattered into a million pieces, showering the sink with bits of glass. Joey sunk to the floor, and started to cry. This time though, it wasn't silent.

Rachel heard Joey's scream and started back towards the door. Monica stopped her, gently grabbing her arm.

"I think he just needs a bit of time by himself," she said softly. Rachel shook her head.

"What he _needs _is a healthy Chandler," she snapped. "What he needs is for Chandler to be sitting in the chair next to him, ogling Yasmine Bleeth! The one thing he _doesn't _need is a bit of time by his self Monica!" Rachel's voice had risen to full volume by the end of her outburst, and she stood there glaring daggers at her best friend.

"Rach, I know you're upset, but yelling at me isn't going to help," Monica said after a moment's silence.

"Are you sure about that! Because it's making me feel a lot better!" Rachel screamed. "Jesus Mon, this is all you're fault!"

"How is it my fault!" Monica exclaimed, growing angry.

"Because!" Rachel shrieked. "Because you had to go and tell me that I was in love with him! I would never have felt this bad if you hadn't told me that!"

"You selfish bitch," Monica hissed. "Do you think you are the only one that feels that way! You know I love him too! Don't you _dare _go blaming this on me, because I feel just as bad as you! So does Joey, Ross and Phoebe. And I can only imagine what Chandler is going through at the moment!" Monica walked forward and jabbed Rachel in the chest. "You are not a spoilt little princess anymore Rachel. You walked away from Daddy's care and realised that the world does not revolve around you! So stop acting like does!"

Monica stood in Rachel's personal space, a glare barely concealing the hurt look on her face. Rachel's anger faded away, and suddenly she felt exhausted.

"I'm sorry Mon," she whispered. "It's just…Jesus, a brain tumour? I mean, I know the doctor said that he will most likely live a long and healthy life, but what if she's wrong? What if he dies? Or-or if he gets sick or changes? I don't know if I could cope with that…there I go again, worrying about myself. I am a selfish bitch."

"No, Rach, you're not," Monica said softly. "You're just human."

"I know that everyone is worried; just as much as me. But, it just scares me," Rachel admitted.

"It scares me too," Monica told her. Rachel bit her lip, trying to fight back tears.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," she apologised tearfully. "I just needed someone to blame, and you were there." Monica sighed and pulled Rachel into a tight hug.

"Oh sweetie," she murmured.

"It's just not fair," Rachel whimpered, the tears spilling over.

"I know," Monica said softly. "I know."

* * *

Rachel sighed, glancing over at Chandler as they walked up the stairs. Joey walked with them, but the others had gone grocery shopping. Monica was planning a nice welcome home dinner for Chandler. Dr Phillips had wanted to keep him in hospital for a couple more days – to keep an eye on him - but Chandler had been anxious to get out of there. When the group had returned that morning, he had continued to voice his unhappiness at staying in the hospital. After a couple of hours, Ross had gone to talk to Dr Phillips. She hadn't been happy, but admitted there was no real reason for Chandler to stay there. So she had checked him over thoroughly and discharged him, but not before making sure that he would be back for a check-up soon.

The group had been overjoyed to have him home, but now Rachel was beginning to doubt his decision. What if Chandler had another seizure? Or some other horrible thing happened to him? It would be better if he was in the hospital where they could help him quickly.

"Chandler…" Rachel began nervously.

"If something happens; it happens," Chandler interrupted her gently, knowing exactly what she was going to say. "I had to come home some time Rach; they can't watch over me forever."

"I know," she said softly as they approached the door to Apartment 20. "And don't get me wrong, I'm glad you're home, I'm just worried." Chandler smiled, touching her hand affectionately as they walked inside.

"Did you have a dream last night?" Joey asked hesitantly as they sat down on the couch.

"Yes," Chandler said shortly, then smiled shakily at his best friend. "I could have used you last night Joe. The nurse that woke me up just wasn't as comforting."

Joey smiled back, although it was just as shaky as Chandlers.

"About Nicole again?" Rachel questioned softly. Chandler nodded.

"Yeah, no new ones…thank god," he murmured.

"I called your boss sweetie. He said to take as much time as you needed. Said that they would get by without you, but it would be a struggle!" Rachel said, laughing lightly. Chandler smirked.

"Least I won't have to go back there for a while. That's looking on the bright side, isn't it?"

"Oh yeah! Something to keep you upbeat!" Joey exclaimed. Chandler laughed.

"Thanks you guys. You know, for everything."

"You don't have to thank us Chandler," Rachel told him.

"No, but I want to," Chandler said seriously. "If it wasn't for you guys, I would be a total mess." Rachel patted his hand gently.

"You're welcome."

The day passed quietly, with the group doing whatever they could to keep Chandler amused while Monica cooked dinner. She served lasagne, and as much as he usually loved her meals, Chandler couldn't eat more then a few mouthfuls. He felt a little queasy, most likely an after-effect of the crazy drugs. Monica had smiled and told him it was okay, but he still felt horrible. She had spent hours making it just for him.

"Thankyou for dinner," Chandler said just before he and Joey were about to leave.

"You already said that," Monica said, laughing lightly. Chandler shrugged.

"Yeah, I know, I just wanted to say it again. It was great…what I had of it."

"Hey, it will always be there tomorrow for you to eat," Monica reminded him. Chandler smiled, reaching over to hug her firmly.

"I look forward to it," he said in her ear. Monica kissed his cheek quickly, and pulled away, a troubled look suddenly covering her face. Chandler frowned.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing, I was just thinking," she answered softly. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay," Chandler agreed. "Night."

"Night," she said hastily, turning towards the sink. Chandler's frown grew deeper, but he didn't say anymore.

"You ready man?" Joey called from the door.

"Yeah," Chandler called back. Monica watched him walk away, breathing a sigh of relief. _Stupid_, she berated herself. She had been doing a good job getting over him, but all of a sudden - with a simple hug - her feelings had come screaming back. She had nearly told him how she felt, but had stopped herself just in time. It would only complicate things, she thought as she watched Rachel walk over to Chandler.

"Have a good day?" Rachel asked gently. Chandler nodded, smiling slightly.

"Yeah, under the circumstances," he replied. "It helped take my mind off of things."

"That was the idea," Joey admitted. Chandler's smile grew wider.

"I kinda figured."

"Okay, I'll see you boys tomorrow," Rachel said brightly. "Sweet dreams!"

"If only," Chandler muttered, looking slightly disturbed.

"I _so _have to stop saying that," Rachel scolded herself.

"It's okay." Chandler leaned over and kissed her cheek gently. "Night."

"Night," Rachel said softly, watching them walk out. She closed the door behind them, then smacked her head with her hand. "Stupid, stupid, _stupid!"_

"You're telling me," Monica muttered, walking over.

"What?" Rachel asked, irritated.

"Oh, not you, me," Monica explained. "Well, you are stupid too, but…oh, I don't know. I'm going to bed. Good night." Rachel was completely baffled as to what Monica was talking about, but let it slide.

"Sweet dreams," she called after her friend. "I mean…damnit!"

* * *

Chandler sighed in frustration, rolling over once more. The clock read 2:36am, and the red numbers seemed to be mocking him. He was so tired; the few hours of blissful unconsciousness he had endured yesterday, - and the drug induced nap he had enjoyed later - had done nothing to curb his exhaustion. He could hear Joey snoring in the other room – the Queen could probably hear him from England – and he was glad that his best friend was getting some rest. Chandler knew that his friend's had been basically insomniac for the past few nights, and it annoyed him that he had been the cause of that. He hated his friends worrying over him; they hadn't asked for this.

Neither had he, but still. Chandler groaned, rubbing his face tiredly. He still couldn't believe it. There was some _thing _growing in his brain, something that was slowly killing him. That thought both disturbed and angered him. He definitely hadn't asked for this. God, what was he going to tell his parents? They weren't close, but he was sure that they would definitely not just smile and nod when they found out their only son could drop dead at any moment. Chandler rolled his eyes. Thinking about that wouldn't get him any closer to sleep. He forced his brain – and the _thing _attached to it – to focus on something else. Chandler thought about golf and the movie Citizen Kane, the two things that bored him more than anything. After a while, he realised he wasn't going to bore himself to sleep, and he thought about something else. His friends entered his mind, and he smiled. He was so lucky to have them, he thought as he yawned. His eyes slowly shut, and he found his thought's lingering on Rachel.

She was the last thing on his mind as he finally drifted off to sleep.


	17. Chapter 17

okay, here we go...this chapter was really hard to write for some reason...okay it was actually pretty easy, but can you believe i was stuck on one line for 4 hours! i was going crazy! There is a bit of Ross hating in this chapter, so im sorry to Ross fans. I love him so, but i had to pick somebody and he was just there! So read, and please enjoy! Oh and scorpioqueen, thanks for the review, and please keep reading and reviewing! that goes for everyone else!

Friends/cast/actors...i dont own any of them sadly, but i would gladly take Matt Perry home!

Oh, and i REALLY dont own 'iris'. that belongs to the goo goo dolls...i wish i did own it, it's my favourite song of all time!

* * *

Sarah Peterson glanced at her watch once more, growling in frustration.

"The bastard stood me up! I can't believe it!" she muttered angrily to herself, staring at her watch. They had agreed to meet at 7:30pm, and the time was now 8:03. "He better have been stuck in traffic or in a car accident, for his sake!" A thought crossed her mind and she stared out the window at the street sign. She _had _told him the right address…right?

"124 Spooner Street…I told him that," she muttered. "I think. Maybe I told him 125? Damnit!"

Sarah grabbed her purse and rushed out the door, looking next door to the Henderson's house. It was dark, and there was no tall, handsome guy knocking on the door. Sarah sighed dejectedly, wandering towards the empty street. She looked up and down the road sadly; not angry anymore, just devastated. She had adored this guy, and he had stood her up.

"Damnit," Sarah said softly, and went to turn around. Something hit her from behind and she went flying forward, hitting the ground hard. All the air she had escaped her lungs, and she lay there for a moment, winded and hurting. There was a dull thud and Sarah screamed in pain. Something had pierced to her back, and Sarah felt bile rush into her throat. She swallowed noisily and attempted to roll over; to see who was attacking her. A foot landed in the small of her back, and Sarah screamed again.

"No!" she shrieked, her voice rough with pain. She heard a guttural laugh behind her and suddenly there were hands wrapped around her ankles. "No!"

Her attacker started to drag her away; towards the alleyway next to her house, Sarah thought through the haze of pain. She attempted to dig her fingers into the ground, trying to stop the attacker from pulling her further. She ended up with her fingers being ripped open by the rough pavement, and still being dragged along.

"No, no, no, no, no," Sarah moaned as they entered the alleyway. Her arms were scratched, and had started to bleed. Sarah didn't care about that. Her back was aching, and she was having trouble breathing. "D-Don't hurt me."

The laughter returned and Sarah suddenly found herself on her back. She squinted into the darkness, trying to identify her attacker.

"P-Please," she begged, her voice a throaty whisper. Her attacker's head shook and Sarah saw a knife being raised. She whimpered, and closed her eyes tightly.

She didn't want to watch.

"No," she whispered again. "Please!"

"Chandler!" a voice yelled.

"No!" Chandler screamed, his eyes flowing open. Joey was holding his arms down, a look of pure distress on his face. Chandler shook his head, trying to wash away the fuzziness that sleep brought.

"You okay?" Joey whispered, letting go of his arms. Chandler sat up slowly, his body trembling severely.

"Not really," he admitted. Joey nodded, then reached behind him. Chandler took a few deep breaths, trying to slow his hammering heart.

"Here." Chandler took the offered tissue and tried to hold it against his bleeding nose, but his hand was shaking too much. Joey smiled grimly and took over.

"This is becoming a bit of a routine," Chandler gasped, trying to lighten the situation. Joey studied his face for a moment, searching for something. Chandler wasn't sure what.

"You were screaming 'please'," he said after a moment. "You have never said that before…you had a different dream, didn't you?"

Chandler swallowed, trying to keep his emotions under control. He failed miserably, and once again found himself in Joey's arms, his sobs harsh and painful. Joey held him gently, whispering comforting words in his ear and he stroked his hair soothingly.

"It was a new girl…Sarah Peterson," Chandler whispered after he had calmed down a bit. "She…he was dragging her Joey! God, she's going to die!" The tears came once more, stronger then before, and Chandler clung to Joey's shirt desperately.

"Why couldn't Nicole have been the only one?" Chandler whimpered. Joey held him tighter, unsure of how to answer that. Chandler looked up at him. "Will you do something for me?"

"Anything," Joey said softly.

"Lie to me again?"

Joey bit his lip, tears springing to his eyes at Chandler's vulnerability. He nodded.

"It's gonna be okay Chan," he whispered. Chandler smiled sadly and buried his face into Joey's shirt once more.

If only that was true.

* * *

"And…and she cried out please and Joey woke me up," Chandler finished quietly. His friends stared at him, processing the information they had just received. Chandler shifted uncomfortably and glanced down at his hands. He could still see Sarah's fingers, mangled and bleeding, half the nails ripped off. Chandler shuddered.

"Can somebody please say something?" he pleaded, looking back up at his friends.

Monica sighed.

"I'm sorry sweetie; it's just a bit of a shock," she said softly. Chandler laughed flatly.

"You're telling me," he muttered.

"We were all just hoping that Nicole would be the only one," Rachel added gently.

"Yeah…me too," Chandler murmured, glancing down at his hands once more. They were trembling, but Chandler marvelled at the smooth skin. He couldn't imagine how much pain Sarah must have been in; how much pain she _will _be in. His jaw tightened angrily.

"What do you think this means?" Ross wondered aloud.

"Jesus Ross, I don't know!" Chandler exclaimed, rising to his feet quickly. He started pacing, irritation spilling over. "No, no, scrap that, I do know! Another innocent person is going to be killed, going to be _murdered _and I have no fucking idea when! For all I know she could already be dead!" Chandler stopped pacing and scrubbed at his face. "How am I going to save her?" There was a long silence, and Chandler knew that his friends were glancing at one another.

"Y-You don't have to save her Chandler," Ross said timidly. Chandler spun around, anger blazing in his eyes.

"What?" he hissed. Ross cleared his throat nervously as his friend's looked at him in dismay.

"It's not your job, man."

"Yes it is! It is my damn job!" Chandler yelled. "You don't understand; you don't know what it's like to watch someone be slaughtered, and know that you are the only one who can stop it from happening! Don't you sit there and tell me it isn't my fucking job, because you don't _know_!"

Chandler's friends watched as he walked out the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

"Well, that went well," Phoebe said after a moment's silence.

"What the hell is your problem Ross?" Joey exclaimed.

"What? I was just trying to help!" Ross said defensively.

"By telling him that he can just sit around and wait for a girl to die, knowing that he could have stopped it?" Rachel hissed, jumping to her feet.

"I didn't mean it like that!" Ross snapped.

"How did you mean it Ross? Because to us, that's what it sounded like! For god sakes, you know how upset and guilty he felt when Nicole died! How do you think he feels this time round, knowing that he can stop it! And you tell him that he doesn't have to save her? Don't you understand? This is killing him!"

"Don't you think I know that?" Ross exclaimed.

"Guys…" Monica started, but was interrupted.

"No, I don't think you do!" Rachel shrieked.

"I do! But what if he goes there and she doesn't listen? Or if he goes there, and she's already dead!" The group stopped to consider Ross's words. "How do you think he would feel then?"

"At least he would have tried," Rachel said coldly.

"Yeah? Well, what if he goes there and interrupts the murder? He could be killed! But I suppose you would think it would all be okay because 'at least he tried'! Better he died now then later, huh Rachel!"

Rachel's hand struck Ross before he could even _think _of regretting what he had just said. His hand automatically went up to his cheek, rubbing where she had slapped him. There was an uncomfortable silence as Rachel glared spitefully at Ross, while he scolded himself. He couldn't believe he had just said that.

"Rach…I-" he began, disgusted with himself.

"Don't," Rachel snapped, raising her hands. "Just don't."

The group watched as Rachel walked out the door, then turned their attention to Ross.

"You know, you can be a real bastard sometimes," Monica hissed, getting up and walking to her room. Ross winced as her bedroom door slammed shut.

"I-I didn't mean to," he stammered, looking at Joey and Phoebe. They did not look happy. "Jesus, I can't believe I just said that!"

Rachel paced in the hallway, trying to calm herself down. God, she was so angry with Ross. She knew he had just said it because he was mad, but that didn't make her feel any better. When people were angry, they either say something they don't mean, and will regret, or they say something they had kept bottled up. Rachel hoped that it was the former. She wouldn't know what to do if he had actually meant what he said. She sighed, running her hands through her hair.

"God Ross, you can be so stupid sometimes," she murmured, her anger fading considerably. She was mostly just worried about Chandler now.

Rachel glanced at the door to Apartment 19, wondering if she should go in. She wanted to more than anything, but she wasn't sure if Chandler would want her to. He had been pretty angry. At Ross, not her, Rachel reminded herself. She sighed and opened the door.

Chandler was sitting in his barcalounger, apparently deep in thought. Rachel walked over and sat down on the arm of the recliner. Chandler didn't look at her, and Rachel wasn't even sure if he was aware of her presence until he took her hand. She let him pull her down so she was sitting on the cushion next to him. Rachel curled up next to him, kissing his forehead gently. They sat in silence for a long time; both lost in their thoughts.

"Did you ever see the movie 'City of Angels?" Chandler asked, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, I think we watched it together," Rachel answered, smiling slightly.

"Do you remember the song that was in that? By the Goo Goo Dolls"

"It's called 'Iris'," Rachel murmured, frowning slightly. She knew the song well, but was unsure if that was the name.

"Yeah, that's the one," Chandler said, a sad smile spreading across his face. "Sometimes I feel like that song was written for me, you know?" Rachel nodded; she could understand that.

"That song is kinda a love song though," she said after a moment's silence.

"I know, but sometimes it's like that. Like I don't want the world to see me. Because I'm not sure if they would really understand what they were seeing."

"Who would you give up forever to touch?" Rachel asked softly. Chandler glanced at her, then looked away, a shy smile covering his face.

"I think you know, Rach," he mumbled. Rachel smiled and hugged him closer.

"I think I do too," she whispered. Chandler sighed, leaning his head against hers.

"I know Ross was just trying to help me… I shouldn't have yelled at him, I was just frustrated," he muttered, finally bringing up the subject they had both been thinking about.

"I know sweetie; believe me, I yelled at him a bit too. And slapped him." Chandler looked at her in surprise.

"Why?" Rachel shrugged.

"He said something that was unforgivable," she said softly.

"What?"

"It doesn't matter. I know he feels terrible about it."

"And now he has a sore cheek," Chandler commented after a beat. Rachel giggled, all of her anger at Ross finally leaving her. Chandler watched her for a moment, then started laughing as well.

"Yeah, I guess he does," she said, still smiling slightly. Chandler grinned at her.

"What are you going to do about Sarah?" she asked, turning serious once more. Chandler sighed.

"I'm not sure," he said softly. "I'm obviously gonna go talk to her, but I don't know when. I have a funny feeling that I should do it soon though." He didn't elaborate, and Rachel didn't mind. She wasn't sure she wanted to know about Chandler's 'funny feeling'.

"You mean, maybe go see her tonight?"

"Maybe…I don't know, I'll have to think about it a bit more," he said thoughtfully, then smiled. "Least I know where she lives."

"Yeah." Rachel frowned, also deep in thought. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"Thanks, but I think I have to do this on my own," Chandler told her. Rachel nodded, sighing softly.

"Just…tell me when you're gonna go," she said firmly. "I don't want to sit around wondering where you are."

"I promise," Chandler murmured. There was another silence as they both were once again lost in their thoughts.

"I really love that song," Chandler said after a while. Rachel looked at him in astonishment.

"Are you still thinking about that!" she exclaimed. Chandler nodded, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Will you do something for me?" he asked softly. Rachel nodded.

"Anything."

"Sing it for me? I haven't heard it for ages." Rachel stared at Chandler in horror.

"You want me to sing for you?" she hissed. Chandler smiled.

"If it's not too much trouble."

"But…but, I can't sing!"

"Come on Rach, I've heard you sing before! You have a nice voice," Chandler insisted.

"No, _you _have a nice voice! I sound like a dying cat! Why don't you sing it? You can actually sing."

"Because I want you to sing it." Chandler looked at her with hopeful blue eyes, and Rachel found it impossible to resist.

"Okay, but if you tell _anybody…"_

"My lips are sealed," Chandler promised. Rachel rolled her eyes, then laughed.

"Okay, here we go." Chandler smiled, holding her tight as she quietly sang to him. To anyone else, it might have sounded like a dying cat, but to Chandler it sounded like heaven. He kissed her cheek after she finished, uttering one word.

"Thankyou."

And I'd give up forever to touch you

Cause I know that you feel me so well

You're the closest to heaven that Ill ever be

And I don't want to go home right now

And all I can taste is this moment

And all I can breathe is your life

And sooner or later it's over

I just don't want to miss you tonight

And I don't want the world to see me

Cause I don't think that they'd understand

When everything's meant to be broken

I just want you to know who I am.

And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming

All the moment of truth in your lies

When everything feels like the movies

Yeah, you bleed just to know you're alive

And I don't want the world to see me

Cause I don't think that they'd understand

When everything's meant to be broken

I just want you to know who I am

And I don't want the world to see me

Cause I don't think that they'd understand

When everything's meant to be broken

I just want you to know who I am

And I don't want the world to see me

Cause I don't think that they'd understand

When everything's meant to be broken

I just want you to know who I am

I just want you to know who I am

I just want you to know who I am

I just want you to know who I am


	18. Chapter 18

hiiiidiho! I'm proud of myself! This is my longest chapter yet, and one of my faves! Please read and review, it means the world to me! Oh, and there are some lyrics used in this chapter, they are from the song '_Taking Over Me' _by Evanescence, one of my favourite songs of theirs. The problem is that song was made _after_ this story is set, so please ignore that little fact! Thanks a bunch! i will update soon!

I dont own friends/characters/actors but i _am _in love with Matt Perrys missing finger tip! Yowza!

* * *

"Hey," Rachel greeted as Chandler entered the apartment later that night. She had left Chandler to his thoughts not long after singing to him. She closed the fridge door and walked over to him.

"Hey, where is everyone?" Chandler questioned, looking around the room.

"Well, Monica is at work, Pheebs and Joey are at Central Perk and Ross…well, I don't know where Ross is. He's kinda avoiding me." Chandler smiled at her words.

"Probably hiding his bruised cheek," he mused. Rachel grinned.

"Yeah, probably," she agreed. The smile faded as she studied his face closely. "You're going now aren't you? To see Sarah?"

"Yeah," Chandler answered in a soft voice. "I figured I should do it now, before it's too late. Or before I lost my nerve."

"Do you know what you're going to say to her?"

"No, but I'll think of something. I have to." Rachel nodded, then reached into her pocket. Chandler watched, puzzled as she pulled her closed fist out, a smile spreading across her face.

"Here, take this." She pried Chandler's hand open and placed a small object in it, pressing his hand closed before he could peek.

"What is it?" he questioned. Rachel smiled faintly.

"Well, it's sort of a family heirloom," she answered softly.

"Oh, Rach, I can't -" Chandler began, only to be cut off.

"Yes you can! You can because I want you to have it!" Rachel insisted. "It's kind of like a good luck charm for me, and I think you need a bit of good luck at the moment."

"Thankyou," Chandler whispered after a beat, smiling shyly. Rachel smiled back, squeezing his hand one last time before removing her own. Chandler stared at her for a moment longer, and then slowly opened his hand.

"It's a ring," he commented, telling Rachel the obvious.

"Yeah, I'm aware of that," she said dryly. "I figured you could wear it…you don't like it."

"No, I love it." He really did. It was a simple gold band, no fancy jewels to be seen. There was a beautiful engraving covering it; what looked like a foreign language. Chandler didn't recognise it, but he just knew it meant something wonderful. He really did love it. "It's just…"

"Just?" Rachel prompted gently.

"Your hands are a bit smaller then mine. I'm not sure if it will fit me," Chandler said sadly. Rachel frowned, taking the ring from him.

"Hmm, hold out your hand." Chandler did as she asked and Rachel soon was attempting to slide the ring onto his finger, with little success.

"Damnit!" she cried in frustration. "Oh, I know!" Chandler watched as she quickly walked into her room, leaving him standing alone.

"'You know', what?" he called after her. Rachel reappeared, sliding the ring onto a gold chain.

"You can wear it around your neck!" she exclaimed. "And you can hide it underneath your shirt, so you can savour a bit of your alleged masculinity." Chandler smirked at this. No matter what was going on, Rachel could always make him smile.

"Okay," he agreed. Rachel smiled widely.

"Okay then." She stepped closer and wrapped her hands behind his neck.

"W-What ya doing?" Chandler asked nervously, secretly savouring the scent of her hair; a mixture of coconut and vanilla.

"I'm doing up the clasp of the necklace," Rachel answered wryly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Chandler laughed uneasily.

"Oh."

"There we go." Rachel leaned back slightly, her eyes glancing quickly at the necklace before gazing into Chandler's baby blues. "Looks great," she murmured, her arms still tightly wrapped around his neck. Chandler swallowed harshly.

"We can't do this Rach," he whispered, their lips dangerously close.

"Why not?" Rachel asked, lightly brushing her lips against his cheek. Chandler took in a shuddering breath. "We both want to, so why not?"

"You know why," he answered gently. Rachel frowned and took a step back.

"Why? Because you're going to die?" Her words were harsher then she had meant, and Chandler had flinched, but Rachel continued anyway. "I'm going to die too Chandler. I could be hit by a car tomorrow, or shot by a thief. I could drop dead from an aneurysm at any second!"

"That's different though," Chandler countered.

"How is that different? Just because we _know _you are dying, doesn't mean that you are going to be the first one to go. You could have another thirty years! We all reach our deadline one day Chandler. But really, is it important how or when we die? There's no sense sitting around and waiting for something that could be years off. We might as well do something to pass the time. Why worry about something that is inevitable?" Rachel wasn't sure about the last sentence – god knows she worried about Chandler's death – but the rest she believed in. Chandler sighed.

"I know that, it's just, it's complicated," he murmured. Rachel nodded.

"I know," she whispered, smiling sadly. "But trust me, I'm not going anywhere." There was a short silence as the two stood there, simply gazing at one another.

"Thankyou for the ring," Chandler said finally.

"Thankyou for wearing it," Rachel countered. "Be safe Chandler." She stretched up and kissed Chandler gently but firmly, albeit too quickly for the both of them. Rachel wanted nothing more then for Chandler to stay; for him to hold her and kiss her all night. But Chandler was determined to save this girl. "I-" Rachel stopped abruptly, biting back the three words she wanted to say so much. "Be safe."

Chandler sighed, pulling her into his arms. She held him close, her head pressed against his chest; his heart beating in her ear. Chandler rested his chin on her head for a moment, and then pressed his lips into her hair. "Don't wait up." He pulled back slightly, then leaned down and captured her lips once more. The kiss once again ended too quickly for the both of them. Rachel closed her eyes, and when she opened them again he was gone, the door shutting quietly behind him. She stared at the closed door for a while, then walked over and opened the fridge once more.

_Don't wait up_

Rachel smirked. "Yeah, right." She pulled out a tub of ice cream and went to sit down on the couch with it, prepared for a long night of waiting.

Chandler pulled his jacket tightly around him, his breath coming out in little puffs of condensation. It was unusually cold, even for late October, he thought as he made his way down the sidewalk. It probably would have been smarter to take a cab, but Chandler had decided to walk. He had looked up Spooner Street and had discovered it was only 15 blocks away. Normally Chandler didn't like walking too much, but he had spent so much time indoors recently that he had ended up longing for some fresh air. This walk was just what he needed. He only hoped that his friends wouldn't find out he had walked. They would probably scold him for walking in the cold. He could just imagine what Rachel would say: 'you already have a brain tumour, and precognition, now you want to add pneumonia to that list?' Chandler smirked, rubbing his hands together. She worried too much; they all did. Sometime's he felt like a child or a puppy when they were around. He loved that they cared for him, he really did but they could be overprotective at times; especially Rachel.

Chandler smiled at the thought of Rachel. For a while, he hadn't been aware of his feelings towards her. When he had figured them out, he hadn't been sure of _her _feelings. He had suspected she cared for him more than she knew; listening to her sobbing over him the day they had watched Philadelphia had made him wonder if she was interested in him. Her holding his hand while he explained that he thought he was crazy had made Chandler suspect. There had been many other times that he had almost been sure. But for him, it had become obvious earlier that day

_Who would you give up forever to touch?_

_I_ _think you know, Rach_

_I think I do too_

Chandler had pretty much confessed his affection to her, and she had held him closer, her hand in his. It reminded Chandler of song lyric's he had once heard.

'_You saw me mourning my love for you and touched my hand. I knew you loved me then'_

That conversation, and Rachel singing to him, had made Chandler sure of her feelings. He smiled gently, recalling their two kisses earlier. He had wanted to do that for a long time, he realised. Even before he had been aware of how he felt. It had finally happened and Chandler felt like he was walking on water. He hadn't thought he would be able to feel like that again, given the recent events. But he did.

Chandler's smile grew wider at that thought. It dropped suddenly as he looked up at the street sign. Spooner Street. Damn. He wasn't ready for this.

"Okay," he murmured to himself. "124 Spooner Street." He started up the street, reluctantly pushing all thoughts of Rachel out of his head. He had a job to do.

* * *

Chandler stared up at the house in front of him. He had only seen it in his dream once, but the image was burnt into his mind.

_D-Don't hurt me_

He took a deep breath, pushing Sarah's terrified plea out of his mind as he walked up to the door. He knocked once, twice, and waited impatiently for the door to be opened. He still had no idea what he was going to say, but Chandler was used to that. He was good at improvising.

Chandler knocked again, and glanced through the window. The lights were off, and there was no movement within the house.

"Damnit," he muttered to himself. Maybe he would just leave a note. "She won't believe it if it's written," he rebuked. "Hell, she probably won't believe it if it comes from my mouth." Chandler laughed lightly, realising that he was talking to himself. He knocked once more -just to be certain – then sighed and turned to leave. He would return first thing in the morning, he thought as he checked his watch. 8:16pm.

A sudden horrific thought entered his mind, and he whirled around to face the alleyway.

"No…" he murmured. "That wouldn't be fair." Chandler shook his head and turned to go. Suddenly he noticed something on the ground. He frowned, peering at the dark puddle. Blood.

"Oh god," Chandler moaned in horror.

A scraping sound caused Chandler's stomach to drop. He turned back towards the alleyway, hearing the distinctive sound of someone climbing over a fence.

Before Chandler knew what was happening, his feet were dragging him towards the alley. He didn't want to go in there – he suddenly knew what he would find – but he found he had no choice. His body was in control now, his mind just a distant observer.

Chandler entered the alleyway, certain of what he was going to find. His hand unconsciously flew to his mouth, a low moan escaping his lips. He had been certain, but it still hadn't prepared him.

Sarah was lying in a pool of her own blood, her eyes blankly staring towards the sky. Chandler slowly walked towards her, swallowing harshly to stop his rolling stomach. He kneeled down next to her body, staring with disbelieving eyes. He had only seen her stabbed once in the dream, and that was in her back, which he couldn't see. But, while studying her broken body, he could see at least six more stab wounds. It was like a bloodbath. Chandler reached over – unaware that he was covering himself in her blood - and gently picked up her hand with his gloved one. It was mangled, just as he remembered, only worse. His lip trembled as he carefully turned it over. Three nails missing, the thumb and middle finger's still attached, but only just. A tear rolled down Chandler's cheek as he lay her hand down on her chest and moved his attention to her face. Her porcelain face was calm, as though Sarah had resigned herself to her fate before she died. Her skin was fair, which made her deep blue eyes stand out all the more. They reminded him of Monica's eyes; the exact same colour. Actually, now that he thought about it, Sarah reminded him a lot of Monica. The same eyes, same delicate bone structure, same ruby lipped mouth; all surrounded by a head of beautiful raven hair. Chandler gasped, picturing Monica there instead; her body bleeding and broken. He blinked and it changed back to Sarah.

She wasn't supposed to die. He was meant to save her.

He rolled back on his heels, pulling his gloved hands away. He had failed once again.

No, he thought angrily. How could he have saved her? He had only had the dream the night before.

"This isn't fair!" Chandler screamed suddenly. "I wasn't given enough time! How could I save her! There wasn't enough time!"

Chandler stared at the sky, his lower lip trembling. He felt like he was once more climbing the walls. Sitting there, screaming at the sky like some clichéd movie, a battered body next to him. It wasn't one of his saner moments, he thought, a hysterical giggle escaping his lips. He knew it wasn't a time to be laughing, but he thought 'what the hell'? What wasn't there to laugh about? He was sitting next to a woman he was meant to save, but couldn't because the world had decided to screw him over once more. Chandler Bing, God's little fucked up practical joke.

Chandler giggled once again at the sheer absurdity of that thought, and his laughter slowly turned into sobs. It didn't matter that he hadn't been given enough time. He had still failed. He should have come sooner, should have come straight away, should have –

Police sirens started up in the distance, growing louder as the seconds passed by. Chandler glanced around frantically, before once again resting on Sarah Peterson's body. The sirens were headed this way. He had no idea how the cop's knew, but they were heading this way.

"Shit." He had to get out of here; Chandler had never been more certain of anything then he was of that fact. It didn't look good, him kneeling over a dead body in the middle of New York, the victims' blood staining his clothes. What would he tell them? That he had dreamed of her death and come just minutes too late? As if they would really believe he had been trying to help her.

"Fuck." Chandler glanced at Sarah one last time before fleeing; leaving her broken body to be discovered by the Feds.

* * *

Chandler ran ten straight blocks before stopping. He bent over -hand on knees -gasping for breath. Thankfully the street was mostly empty, so he didn't get too many odd looks. After a couple of minutes of heavy breathing, Chandler straightened and went to rub his face. He stopped, suddenly noticing his blood stained gloves. He mechanically removed the gloves and tossed them in a nearby trash can. He then glanced down at his clothes, taking in the soaked material. Chandler rubbed at his clothes, then lifted his hands in front of his face.

"Oh god," he whispered. Before he knew what was happening, Chandler was on his hands and knees, retching painfully. He expelled the little he had eaten that day, and continued to heave after emptying his stomach. Finally he leaned back, tears streaming freely down his face.

"Oh god," he repeated. A lone tap caught his eye and he hauled his trembling body over to the faucet. He turned it on and methodically started rubbing his hands underneath it, tears still streaming. He rubbed and rubbed until his hands were clean, and continued to rub long after. Finally he pulled his hands back and stared down at them. They were raw and bleeding slightly, reminding Chandler once more of Sarah. He took in a shuddering breath and turned the tap off, then leaned back, still staring at his hands. Some of Sarah's blood was still caked underneath his nails, but Chandler didn't do anything to get rid of it. Instead he sat there, staring at the ominous clouds, crying silently. After a while, it started to rain; the raindrops thick and heavy. Chandler continued to sit there, still staring at the sky. The freezing rain felt good against his hot face. Finally he stood and started to walk home in the pouring rain; tears still streaming down his face.

* * *

A sudden dip in the bed woke Rachel abruptly. She had tried to wait for Chandler, but exhaustion had claimed her. She had climbed into bed at 1: 27am – over six hours since Chandler had left - promising herself that she would check in on him first thing in the morning. He had, after all, told her not to wait up.

Rachel opened her eyes, glancing at the clock. 2:13am. A trembling hand slid into hers, grasping her fingers gently. She rolled over and found tearful blue eyes staring at her.

"Please?" Chandler whispered, his hair dripping with water. Rachel sat up slowly, taking in his appearance. He was soaking wet, his clothes stained with blood and his body was shaking unmercifully. A tiny sob escaped his lips every few seconds.

"What happened?" she asked worriedly. Chandler shook his head, another sob leaving his lips. Rachel pulled him into her arms, kissing his wet hair softly. Chandler clung to her limply, his body still shaking. After a few minutes Rachel pulled away and walked over to her closet. Chandler watched wordlessly as she pulled out an oversized shirt she sometimes slept in. It had originally belonged to Chandler – and had been too big for him - but she had borrowed it one night and had become attached to it, so he had given it to her. Rachel placed the jersey on the bed, and then gently pulled Chandler to his feet. She grasped the bottom of his shirt and slowly pulled it over his head, and then reached for his belt buckle.

"I never thought I would be undressing you for the first time in _this_ situation," she joked, unbuckling his belt. Chandler let out a short laugh, watching as she dropped the belt on the floor. Rachel smiled tightly as she slowly unzipped his pants and pulled them down, ending up on her knees. His shoes and socks were missing, but Rachel didn't bother asking about their whereabouts. He had most likely taken them off by the front door, aware of Monica's obsession with cleanliness.

"Step," she commanded. Chandler did as he was instructed and his pants joined his shirt and belt in a wet pile on the floor. He shivered, clad only in his boxers - and the ring around his neck - now. Rachel stood up and grabbed the oversized jersey, then carefully pulled it over his head. It came down to around mid thigh on him, she noticed as she took his hand and led him over to the bed, pulling back the covers. She got in first, Chandler following close behind. Rachel held him close, trying to warm his ice-cold body. He still trembled, but less then he had before.

Chandler's hand wrapped around the material of her top. It had become an unconscious habit of his since the dreams began. Rachel kissed his brow and he closed his eyes with a shuddering sigh. She watched as he slowly drifted off to sleep, then continued to watch him slumber. Finally, at around 3am, she closed her eyes.

Whatever happened that night could wait till the morning to be explained.

Chandler sighed softly in his sleep, causing Rachel to smile.

He needed his sleep.


	19. Chapter 19

Hey guys! I was gonna make this chapter longer, but then i decided what i was actually gonna write, and that would've ended up to be around 6000 words, and i wanted to put this up asap, so i cut it in half...the next chapter should be on its way within a day or so!

Oh, and there are some song lyrics mentioned in this chapter '_who can decide what they dream, and dream I do?' _Those lyrics are once again taken from the Evanescence song 'Taking Over Me'. I used that song in the last chapter as well...i was listening to it one day while writing and thought it seemed fitting! So, Please read and review, and please enjoy! Kisses!

I do not own friends/characters/actors but i wish i owned Chandler Bing...that would be awesome.

* * *

Rachel opened her eyes and stared blearily at the clock next to the bed. 10:46am. She had slept through her alarm, and missed work. That mean's another apologetic phone call to her boss. At this rate she was going to lose her job. No. She was sure that her boss would understand. Her boyfriend had a brain tumour.

Boyfriend…_was _Chandler her boyfriend? They had kissed a couple of times, and had practically confessed their feelings to one another, but did that qualify them as being a couple? Rachel wasn't sure, but it didn't matter at the moment. If he wasn't her boyfriend now, she had no doubt that he would be soon and that thought comforted her. Unless something happened last night that had changed Chandler's mind. She frowned, remembering the dishevelled state he had been in last night. He had obviously seen something horrific, and it had left him in shock. And the blood…whose blood had that been? Rachel worried her lip nervously. What the hell could have happened? All he had done was talk to Sarah, right?

_What if he goes there and she doesn't listen?_

_Or if he goes there, and she's already dead_

Ross's shouted words came screaming back to her and she shuddered. What if that _had _happened? Something warm trickled down her chin and Rachel realised her lip was bleeding. She stopped chewing it and wiped away the blood, then rolled over to face Chandler. She wanted to know – _needed _to know – what had happened last night.

Chandler was staring at the roof, a blank look on his face. One hand still clung to her shirt, making Rachel worry all the more.

"Hi," she whispered. Chandler turned his head to face her and smiled faintly.

"Hi," he whispered back, turning his head towards the ceiling once more.

"What are you doing?" she asked, glancing at the roof; looking for what he was staring at. Chandler shook his head, the ghost of a smile remaining.

"Just thinking," he murmured. Rachel mirrored his smile, cuddling up to her friend –lover? - and rubbing his stomach gently.

"About what?" Another head shake, but this time the smile disappeared.

"Just….stuff." Rachel nodded. "Everything. Anything, you know?"

"Yeah." Chandler turned to face her once more, his eyes filled with sadness.

"Sarah is dead," he whispered. Rachel's eyes widened, her eyebrows rising in shock.

"What?"

"I was too late; she was dead when I got there." A lone tear ran down Chandler's nose and dripped onto the pillow. Rachel shook her head.

"But…you only had the dream the night before!" she exclaimed. Chandler nodded.

"I know…but she died anyway." He closed his eyes tightly as Rachel processed this information.

"How could you have known? How could you have saved her?" she hissed.

"That's what I said." Chandler laughed humourlessly, opening his eyes once more. There was a haunted look on his face and Rachel knew that he was remembering. He had seen her body. He had seen the body of the woman he was meant to save.

"Was….how bad…was it?" she whispered. Chandler sighed shakily, running a hand over his face. Rachel noticed his raw hands, and his blood caked nails, but said nothing.

"It was bad," he answered finally. "Really…she was so….god Rach, she was _slaughtered! _I…I didn't know what to do, you know? It was too late, and…" he trailed of, a pained look taking over his face.

"And?" Rachel prompted gently. Chandler's breath hitched in his throat, and he swallowed harshly.

"She…she looked like Monica, Rach," he whispered. "I didn't realise it before, but she did…and I-I… I thought, I thought that…" he shook his head, unable to continue.

"You thought that it was Mon?" Rach asked quietly, tears springing to her eyes. God, Chandler must have been terrified.

"Just for a second, but….what if it was her next? Or Joey? Or…you?" he shook his head again. "I-I couldn't….I couldn't cope with that, you know?"

"I know," Rachel whispered, taking his tender hand in her own.

"Her fingernails, I didn't tell you guys this, but…" he paused, swallowing once again. "They…they had been ripped off. She- she was clawing at the ground, trying to stop him from dragging her, but… it didn't work. Her thumb and middle finger, the nails were still there, but just barely." Rachel was horrified by the image that description had made in her mind. But she could only imagine. Chandler didn't have to.

"God," she whispered. "I'm…I don't know what to say sweetie. 'I'm sorry' just doesn't seem to cut it."

"It's okay, I know what you mean," Chandler murmured. He rubbed his face once more. "Jesus…I don't think I will ever be able to get that image out of my head. It was ten times as worse as Nicole's…I can only imagine what the next one will be like."

"Maybe you won't have another dream?" Rachel suggested half-heartedly, knowing that wouldn't be the case. The world was determined to screw over Chandler Bing.

"I would love to believe that Rach; I really would. But it's not true," Chandler muttered.

"I know," Rachel whispered. "Who can decide what they dream?"

"And dream I do," Chandler finished, smiling slightly. "Is that from a song?"

"I have no idea," Rachel answered honestly. Chandler's smile grew wider, and he leaned his head against Rachel's. They lay in silence for a while, before Rachel spoke up.

"What did you do? I mean, after you found her?" she asked softly.

"I screamed, I yelled, I cried and I ran," Chandler whispered. Rachel frowned.

"You ran?"

"Yeah…there were sirens heading that way; I don't think they would have believed my explanation," he muttered.

"Then what did you do?"

"I ran…a lot. Then I stopped to catch my breath, and noticed my gloves were, they were covered in…"

"Blood?" Rachel supplied gently.

"Yeah. I took them off and threw them away, then tried to wipe the blood off my clothes…stupid huh?" Rachel shook her head, and Chandler smiled. "Then I realised that my hands were now covered in b-blood, so I…well, I threw up… a lot. Then I washed my hands…_a lot_. And _then _I sat there in the rain, and cried…for a long time; hours maybe, I don't know, I lost track of time. Then I came here."

"It's a surprise you didn't catch pneumonia," Rachel mused. Chandler smirked.

"I knew you would say something like that."

"Am I that predictable?" she whispered. Chandler smiled faintly, squeezing her hand.

"No… I for one never predicted you would be lying in bed next to me," he muttered. Rachel grinned.

"Well, I for one do not mind lying in bed next to you." Chandler's smile grew wider, and then faded suddenly, the haunted look returning. "Are you going to be okay?" It was a stupid question. He had a brain tumour, was dreaming about people's deaths and had sat next to a dead body the night before. Of course he was not going to be okay.

"I-I don't think so Rach, I really don't," Chandler answered softly. "I think I will be able to deal with this though." Rachel nodded, pressing her lips against his covered shoulder. Chandler sighed, leaning closer.

"We should get out of bed," he murmured.

"Hungry?" Rachel asked, planting another kiss; this time against his chest. Chandler smiled slightly.

"Like you wouldn't believe…I feel like I haven't eaten since dinosaurs walked the Earth…or maybe since the last time Ross droned on about them walking the Earth. I wouldn't really want to experience either; they're both pretty terrifying." Rachel smiled into his chest.

"I can relate," she muttered. Chandler laughed lightly, causing Rachel's smile to grow wider. She lifted her head and grinned at him.

"I love hearing you laugh," she said softly. Chandler smiled shyly.

"Make me laugh and I'll do it more often."

"Okay, but how could I make you laugh?" Rachel wondered out loud. Chandler smirked, the sadness in his eyes beginning to lift.

"I don't know, maybe you should figure that out?" he said lightly. Rachel giggled, then leaned forward. "I haven't brushed my teeth," Chandler reminded her.

"I don't care," she whispered, and softly pressed her lips against his. Chandler's hand disappeared into Rachel's hair and he rolled over slightly, deepening the kiss.

"Rach?" There was a knock at the door, and Rachel groaned, pulling away. "You awake? I've got breakfast."

"I'll be out in a minute Mon!" Rachel yelled, slightly irritated.

"Okay." The pair listened to the footsteps move away from the door, and then glanced at each other.

"You feel like some breakfast?" Rachel asked. Chandler smiled.

"It doesn't really interest me anymore," he said, moving in for another kiss. His stomach protested, begging to be fed. Rachel giggled and grabbed Chandler's hand.

"Come on." She pulled him to his feet and started for the door.

"Wait, I can survive without food," Chandler protested. Rachel shook her head, laughing. "I'm horny and desperate for love, remember?"

"I remember," Rachel teased, reaching up and kissing the tip of his nose. "Now come on; Joey's probably wondering where you are." Chandler's face darkened, and he nodded.

"Yeah." Rachel pulled open the door and walked into the living room, Chandler following closely behind. Monica and Ross looked up from their breakfast, identical expressions of surprise covering their faces.

"Oh! Morning Chandler," Monica exclaimed after a moment's silence.

"Morning," Chandler said softly, still following Rachel. She smiled at him and took a seat at the table, motioning for him to do the same. "Uh, has anyone seen Joey?"

"I think he's still in bed, why?" Ross asked, over his initial shock. Now he glanced from Chandler to Rachel, slightly wary of how they were going to react to him. He hadn't talked to either since the day before, when they had both yelled at him. His cheek was slightly red from Rachel's hand, and he felt like an idiot. Why couldn't he keep his mouth shut? He would have to sit down with them both to apologise, he thought as he dug into his bacon and eggs. And find out exactly why Chandler had slept in Rachel's bed. Not that he minded; Rachel wasn't his to keep after all, but a hint of jealousy still lingered.

"I have to talk to him…I'll be right back." Chandler explained, bringing Ross back to the present. Chandler walked over to the door, then stopped and turned around. "Why aren't you guys at work?"

"Um, well, we took a few days off," Rachel lied, glancing down at her plate.

"In other words, you didn't show up?"

"Yeah," Ross answered, smiling slightly. Chandler smirked, shaking his head.

"Hey, I went to work," Monica said defensively.

"I know Mon; I'll be right back." Chandler opened the door, only to be stopped by Ross.

"Hey man, can we talk later?" Ross asked softly. He had to ask now, before he lost his nerve. Having Chandler angry at him was not something he enjoyed, especially at the moment when they both had other problems. Chandler needed all of his friends right now, and him being angry at Ross wasn't something he should have to worry about. Chandler glanced at Ross thoughtfully then smiled and nodded.

"Of course." He grinned, then left the room, the door shutting quietly behind him.

"Talk about what?" Rachel asked, biting into a piece of bacon.

"About yesterday…you know, I sort of want to apologise…to you as well as Chan." Rachel raised her eyebrows in surprise. She had completely forgotten about that.

"Oh, you know what Ross, its fine, really. We were both pretty upset. It's okay," she paused, smiling slightly. "I'm sorry I slapped you."

"I'm sorry I said…what I said. I didn't mean it," Ross muttered. Rachel nodded, her smile widening.

"Okay, so we're good. So tell me Rach… why did Chandler sleep in your bed last night? Or…aren't we allowed to know?" Monica asked, her voice sounding eager. Rachel was surprised; Monica seemed to be very accepting towards her and Chandler being together, given that she was also in love with him. It was possible that she was over Chandler. Or that she was _trying _to get over him.

"Nothing happened you guys; Chandler was just really upset…make that shattered," she answered softly. Ross frowned.

"What happened?" a thought crossed his mind and he gasped. "Oh my god, did he go see Sarah?"

"Yeah, yeah he did," Rachel said grimly.

"And?" Monica pressed. Rachel sighed.

"Well, I don't know if I should tell you this; Chandler might have wanted to tell you guys. But I'm sure it's better for me to say it. He has enough problems at the moment, without having to worry about reliving this." She frowned. Chandler was reliving this anyway, she was sure. He would be for a long time. But it had been hard enough for him to tell her, she couldn't imagine how difficult it would be for him to tell the rest of the group.

"What happened?" Monica asked, sounding distressed. Rachel's words hadn't left her with warm, fuzzy feelings. In fact, it had sounded like Chandler had visited hell itself. Rachel sighed once more; looking at the siblings troubled faces, then proceeded to tell them what Chandler had told her.

"Oh my god," Monica whispered once she had finished. "Oh my god."

"That…that just isn't fair," Ross muttered, looking angry. Rachel nodded.

"That's what we said."

"He…he thought it was me?" Monica asked, sickened by that thought.

"For a second. I-I think that was the worst thing about it for him; imagining someone he loved like _that!_" Monica's heart leapt at Rachel's words, and she immediately felt selfish and guilty. Chandler had been through a horrific ordeal and she was jumping for joy at the thought that Chandler _loved _her. How egotistical could she get? Plus, she knew that Rachel hadn't meant love; not in the way that Monica wanted. That word; that feeling, was now reserved for Rachel and Rachel alone. Chandler loved Rachel, not you, Monica reprimanded herself. And you are okay with that.

She really was okay with that; she had dealt with that fact for quite a while now. It was time to move on.

"How could he be expected to be able to help her? He was given over a week for Nicole, and what? He gets one measly day to save Sarah? How fucked up can you get!" Ross exclaimed. Rachel raised her eyebrows in surprise. Ross had never been one to swear, but emotions brought out the best – or worst- in people. She had already been aware that this situation was a serious one, but Ross cursing had confirmed that fact. She wasn't sure why, or how, but it had.

"I know Ross, I know," she muttered. "I feel… I feel like the world is out to get him, you know? Like, I don't know, the powers that be see him as their own little toy, something that they can toss around at will. Like he is something that they can mess with, and don't care whether or not he is going to break. They can always find a new toy, can't they?" her voice was bitter, and she was angrily attacking her now-cold eggs with her fork. "If I feel that way, how do you think Chandler feels?"

"What do you mean by 'break'?" Ross asked softly. Rachel glanced up at him, frowning.

"What do think I mean, Ross? He can't cope with this; what happens to a person when they can't cope?" she spat out.

"You're afraid that he's going to snap?" Monica whispered. Rachel nodded, suddenly teary eyed.

"I asked him if he was going to be okay, and he said he didn't think so," she murmured. "But he said that he thinks that he will be able to deal with it. But what if he can't? What if, one day, he just loses it completely? Oh god, what if he…" she trailed off, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.

"What if he what?" Ross gently urged.

"What if he can't cope with the dreams anymore? What if he decides that the only way to make them stop is to…"

"You think he might hurt himself?" Monica asked, horrified.

"How else could he make the dreams stop? He can't exactly tell his mind what to do while he's sleeping! No one can decide what they dream," she said softly. "What if he does…try?"

"We can't let that happen," Ross said firmly. "He's already dying; there is no way we are going to lose him before his time is up."

"But what if we do?" Monica questioned quietly after a moment.

"We'll just have to keep an eye on him," Ross answered. Monica shook her head.

"That's not what I meant. What if he doesn't die, but we lose him anyway? Not his body, but his mind. I don't know about you two, but I'm not really sure which would be worse. Knowing that he has gone to a better place? Or knowing that he is trapped inside his own damn mind; stuck with all his demons. I just don't know which would be worse." Ross and Rachel stared at Monica.

They didn't know either.

* * *

"Joe?" Chandler called as he walked into their apartment.

"Chan?" Joey's voice called from his room. He entered the living room quickly, relief covering his face. "Oh thank god! I was up half the night worrying about you!"

"Sorry," Chandler said softly as his friend walked over to him.

"It's okay. Where the hell were you?"

"I went to talk to Sarah…and then I, uh, stayed with Rachel," Chandler explained, telling his best friend the bare essentials. A grin spread across Joeys face, and he clapped Chandler on the shoulder.

"You dog! I was wondering when you two would get your act together!" he said happily. Chandler let out a short laugh.

"It wasn't like that man." Joey's face fell, his hand dropping from Chandler's shoulder.

"Oh."

"Well…it was a bit," Chandler countered. The grin returned on Joeys face.

"Oh really? What, she kissed you?"

"Yeah…and I kissed her," Chandler said, smiling slightly.

"Cool," Joey commented, still grinning. "But let me get this straight. You stayed with Rachel last night, slept in the same bed as a beautiful woman, and _nothing _happened?"

"I'm not you Joe," Chandler teased, smirking.

"Point taken. So, you spent the night talking?" Chandler's smile faded.

"No…we didn't talk last night," he murmured, his face clouding. Joey frowned.

"You okay man?" he asked.

_D-Don't hurt me_

Chandler swallowed, the sudden vision sickening him.

"Chan? What's wrong?"

"I-I need to sit down," Chandler whispered, starting to shake. How could he have been acting so upbeat? Sarah was dead. Lying in a pool of her own blood, nails ripped from her fingers. Chandler's knees buckled.

"Whoa!" Joey exclaimed, grabbing his arm before he hit the ground. "You alright?"

"Yeah, I just need to…" Chandler trailed off, his legs buckling once more. Joey wrapped his arm around Chandler's waist and half led, half carried him over to the couch. He sat him down, then took a seat next to him.

"Better?" he asked gently. Chandler pressed the palm of his hand against his eye, groaning slightly.

"Yeah," he said after a moment. "Just felt a bit dizzy, is all."

"Dizzy? You got a headache?" Chandler nodded. "Is it like the other day? Before you had the-"

"I'm not going to have another seizure," Chandler said, cutting him off. Joey nodded, but still looked unsure.

"Maybe I should call Dr. Phillips."

"No!" Chandler yelled. Joey looked taken aback, so he lowered his voice. "I-I was just thinking…remembering, you know."

"The dream?" Joey asked gently.

"Yes…and no."

"I don't understand."

"I went to see Sarah last night," Chandler explained, his voice trembling.

"You said that," Joey reminded him. There was a short silence. "And?" Joey asked finally.

"And…I was too late." Joey's mouth fell open in shock.

"You mean-"

"She's dead Joey," Chandler said bitterly.

_D-Don't hurt me_

Chandler moaned, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. He didn't want to remember.

"Y-You want to tell me about it?" Joey asked tentatively. Chandler shook his head, and opened his eyes.

"I already explained it once," he murmured. "You can ask Rachel later." Joey nodded.

"Do you want me to lie to you again Chan?" he asked after a moment's silence. Chandler shook his head once more.

"No," he whispered. "But…"

"But what?" Joey asked softly. Chandler sighed, glancing down at his body. He was still clad in his boxers and the oversized jersey.

"Never mind," he muttered.

"But what?" Chandler glanced at his best friend, and sighed once more. He leaned against Joey, resting his head on his friend's shoulder.

"Could you just, you know…" he trailed off, too embarrassed to continue.

"Hold you?" Joey finished gently. Chandler nodded.

"Yeah," he murmured. Joey smiled sadly and wrapped his arm around his friend's shoulder, pulling him closer. Chandler clutched at Joey's shirt and closed his eyes, a shudder coursing through his body.

"Whatever you need Chan, I'm here for you," Joey said quietly. Chandler nodded.

"I know," he whispered. "Thankyou."


	20. Chapter 20

Hey! I wasnt going to post another chapter tonight..he'll i wasnt going to FINISH another chapter tonight, but my finger's would not stop! This chapter was not planned at all, but it just came to me while i was writing, so all the other chapters that i have planned got nudged back one chapter hehe. Oh, andi feel i must apoligize to any Phoebe fans out there! I know she hasnt been featured much in my story, and there is a good reason for that; two actually! Number 1 - Phoebe is hard to write for...some of the things that come out her mouth are jsut like 'Whoa!" and 2 - She doesnt really fit anywhere into the story; she's a supporting character. I mean, we have Chandler - the main character, Rachel - the love interest, Joey - the main character best friend. Monica - love interests best friend, who is aslo in love with main character and Ross - main character's other best friend, who is also still in love with love interest...Phoebe just doesnt fit anywhere! I'm glad i explained that! This is just a short chapter, i wrote it in just over an hour, and i will have another chapter up by tomorrow night! So please read and review!

I don't own friends/characters/actors, but i wouldnt mind Matt perry's hand wrapped in my shirt!

* * *

Rachel glanced at the clock, chewing at her lip. It had become a bad habit, and she knew she had to stop, but couldn't. It gave her something to do when she was worrying. Which she was now.

Chandler had said he would be right back. That had been over an hour ago. He must have been starving by now. Unless Joey had fed him, she thought. That seemed unlikely though; the two usually came here for breakfast. Why have a bowl of cereal when you could have a trained chef cook for you?

Maybe he was having a shower? That also seemed unlikely, judging from how hungry he had seemed. That meant that him and Joey must have been talking about something; something that took over an hour to discuss. God, what if something had happened? Joey would have come to get them, or yelled loud enough for them to hear something. Unless he had been unable to.

Rachel rose from her seat, smoothing back her still damp hair. She had showered and dressed while she waited; hoping Chandler would be back when she got out.

"Where are you going?" Ross asked, glancing up from the magazine he was reading.

"I'm going to check on Chandler," she murmured.

"Rach-"

"He said he would be right back Ross! That was over an hour ago."

"Rach, you're being slightly overprotective." Rachel turned to face her ex-lover.

"I don't care Ross! After what he went through- what he is going through- I think me being overprotective is acceptable, don't you think?" Ross sighed.

"I-I guess so," he murmured.

"It's been over an hour," Rachel said once again.

"I know."

"Something might be wrong."

"Joey would look after him," Ross countered.

"He said he'd be right back Ross….he's not," Rachel muttered. Ross sighed once more, and glanced back down at his magazine. "Remind him that I need to talk to him."

"Okay." Rachel headed over to the door and opened it, then turned back to face her friend. "Tell Monica that I'll be back to help in a minute." Monica was in the shower at that moment, but she had asked Rachel for some help in a cake. Rachel never helped Monica cook – she never really needed any help- but she had agreed. She was pretty sure that Monica wanted her company more then anything else.

"Okay," Ross called as she walked out into the hallway. She shut the door behind her then walked six paces across the hallway and opened the door to Apartment 19.

"Chandler?" she called, closing the door quietly behind her.

"Hey Rach." Rachel jumped at the sound of Joey's voice. He was walking out of his room, a blanket in his hand.

"Hey Joe, where's Chandler?" she asked. He jerked his head towards the couch. Rachel walked forward slightly and glanced over to where he had indicated. "Oh."

Chandler was spread out on the couch, stirring restlessly in his sleep. Joey smiled grimly at Rachel, then walked over and carefully covered Chandler with the blanket. Once Chandler was covered, Joey walked back over to the kitchen.

"He fell asleep?" Rachel asked quietly.

"Just a few minutes ago; we were talking and then suddenly he went weird and nearly passed out on me," Joey explained, looking haunted. "I thought he was about to have another damn seizure Rach, I really did!"

"But he didn't?"

"No, thank god. I practically had to carry him over to the couch though. He said he was dizzy, so I was gonna call Dr. Phillips, but Chandler being Chandler was stubborn about it. He told me about Sarah." Joey's voice was low, and Rachel could hear the pain emitted from it. "Told me that he had been too late. That was all; told me to ask you about the rest. Then he asked me to…"

"To what?" Rachel pressed gently.

"To hold him; God Rach, he is so vulnerable at the moment!" Joey exclaimed. Rachel was unsure if she had ever heard Joey use the word 'vulnerable' before, but he was right.

"I know sweetie," she murmured, glancing over as Chandler once more stirred in his sleep.

"So…what happened? With Sarah I mean. Did he…did he see her, uh, her body?" Joey stammered. Rachel let out a long breath then nodded.

"Yeah," she muttered. "Yeah, he did."

* * *

Her attacker started to drag her away; towards the alleyway next to her house, Sarah thought through the haze of pain. She attempted to dig her fingers into the ground, trying to stop the attacker from pulling her further. She ended up with her fingers being ripped open by the rough pavement, and still being dragged along.

"No, no, no, no, no," Sarah moaned as they entered the alleyway. Her arms were scratched, and had started to bleed. Sarah didn't care about that. Her back was aching, and she was having trouble breathing. "D-Don't hurt me."

The laughter returned and Sarah suddenly found herself on her back. She squinted into the darkness, trying to identify her attacker.

"P-Please," she begged, her voice a throaty whisper. Her attacker's head shook and Sarah saw a knife being raised. She whimpered, and closed her eyes tightly.

She didn't want to watch.

"No," she whispered again. "Please!"

Pain exploded in her stomach; pain like she had never felt before. Sarah let out a choked scream, her eyes flying open. "No…please don't…no." She could feel herself weakening; feel her body shutting down. At that moment she realised that she was going to die. She didn't feel fear, just acceptance of what was about to happen. Her only wish was that it would be quick, but something told her that that would not be the case.

Laughter echoed through the alley once more and Sarah saw the moonlight shinning off the blade of the knife as it was raised once more. Sarah gasped; deciding to try one more time to summon her saviour. She opened her mouth and screamed with all her strength.

"Please! Help me! God, somebody help!" The knife came down. "No!"

"Chandler!"

Chandler bolted upright, gasping for breath as sweat poured into his eyes. He looked around frantically, taking in his surroundings. Both Rachel and Joey were leaning over him, identical expressions of concern masking their faces. Chandler reached up with trembling fingers and touched his nose. It was bleeding.

"C-Can I have a t-tissue please?" he whispered, his voice shaking noticeably. Rachel reached into her pocket and held it out, a small smile covering her face. Chandler stared at the tissue, then glanced up at Rachel. "Please?" his words echoed that of both his last night and Sarah's…also last night. He shuddered at the thought.

"I should know by now," Rachel murmured, pressing the tissue up against his nose. Chandler sighed, squeezing his eyes shut tightly.

_D-Don't hurt me_

_Please!_

He moaned and leaned into Joey, who had taken a seat next to him. His best friend wrapped his arms around him, pulling him closer. Chandler, like always, grabbed a fistful of Joey's shirt and shivered. The scene probably would have looked odd to anyone who came in at that moment. Two guys clad in nothing but boxers and shirts; one holding the other, while a pretty lady pressed a tissue against the embraced one's nose. He suppressed a laugh at the thought, knowing it would come out manic and hysterical, and most likely be followed by tears. He didn't want that. He was tired of crying. No, he wasn't tired of crying, he was just plain tired. Chandler shivered once more.

"You gonna be okay man?" Joey whispered in his ear. He shrugged indifferently, feeling hot tears fill his eyes.

"Damnit," he muttered, raising a hand to angrily swipe at the tears. He had told himself that he didn't want to cry, but here he was, on the verge of breaking down once more.

"It's okay to cry, sweetie," Rachel said softly. Chandler shook his head.

"I-I'm tired of crying." The words came out as a whimper, and Chandler swallowed the lump in his throat. He wasn't going to cry; he couldn't, wouldn't, mustn't cry. He was sick to death of crying. He wasn't going to cry; he couldn't, wouldn-

"Chandler." Joey's voice interrupted Chandler's new found mantra. He glared up at his friend.

"You interrupted me," he muttered. Joey and Rachel exchanged a worried glance. Chandler looked away from Joey, staring down at his hands. Sarah's blood was still caked under his nails. He swallowed once more. That damn lump just would not go away. But he wasn't going to cry. He couldn't, wouldn't, mustn-

"Chandler?" Joey interrupted once more. Chandler glanced up at him once more, then looked back down.

"I am not going to cry," he said firmly, then swallowed once more; trying to get rid of that damn lump. "I'm not going to cry. I can't, I won't, I mustn't cry. I am not going to cry."

"Chandler? Sweetie?" Rachel whimpered, lifting his head so that he was looking at her.

"I am not going to cry," Chandler repeated, trying once again to bury the lump. It stubbornly stayed there, and Chandler felt his eyes fill with tears once more. "Son of a bitch!" he yelled, swiping at the tears.

"I'm gonna call Dr. Mackenzie," Joey informed Rachel, and started to get up. Chandler grabbed at his shirt and pulled him back down.

"No!" he shouted, his lower lip trembling. "I am not going to cry! I can't, I won-" Chandler's voice cracked and a sob escaped his lips. "I can't," he whimpered, before breaking down completely. Joey pulled him into his arms, whispering comforting words in his ear as he glanced helplessly at Rachel. She was crying silently, her hand covering her mouth to stop any sound that may come out. Joey's lip quivered and he swallowed the lump that appeared in his throat; unaware that Chandler had tried to do the same thing just moments ago. He looked back down at his best friend; hysterically crying in his arms. Joey feared that he was getting close to cracking; close to climbing those damn walls he had mentioned previously.

"I am not going to cry," Chandler sobbed. "I-I can't."

"It's okay to cry Chandler," Joey whispered, stroking his best friend's hair. Chandler shook his head.

"I can't…I won't."

* * *

"Hey," Phoebe said softly as Rachel shut Chandler's door behind her. "How is he?" Chandler had stopped crying after a while, but had continued to mutter his new mantra over and over. Joey had ended up carrying Chandler to his bedroom, while Rachel went and summoned their friends; explaining the situation. Phoebe had joined the siblings while Rachel had been gone, so she had trailed into the boy's apartment, just as worried as the others. Rachel had then returned to Chandler's side, but he had seemed to react negatively to her touch; preferring to keep close to Joey. This had hurt Rachel; she couldn't figure out why he was suddenly doing that. Perhaps he felt embarrassed that she had seen him break down like that. Rachel sighed. She didn't know.

"He….I-I don't really know Pheebs," she answered her blond friend's question. "I think he…I think he just snapped. He just wouldn't stop repeating those damn words…it has never been this bad before."

"I called Dr. Mackenzie," Ross said softly after a moment of silence. "Told him the situation. He said that…he said that it was our choice if we wanted Chandler to be-"

"To be what, Ross?" Rachel asked tiredly.

"To be committed," Ross whispered. Rachel stared at him in horror.

"You mean…like, men all dressed in white _committed?_" she hissed. Ross nodded miserably. "Oh god."

"Do you think that's necessary?" Monica asked softly.

"I-I don't know Mon, I don't want him to be," Rachel answered. She suddenly felt like she had aged 40 years in the past hour.

"Dr. Mackenzie said that at the very least, he want's Chandler to come and see him as soon as possible," Ross informed them. Rachel nodded.

"Maybe…maybe we should do that first," she suggested.

"Yeah; it seems a bit to early to think about…you know, someone taking him away," Phoebe agreed.

"Yeah, okay, we'll wait and see what happens," Rachel murmured. "God…you should have seen him! I thought after the seizure, I could never be more scared…I was wrong. He was just muttering that he couldn't cry; couldn't, wouldn't." Rachel covered her mouth with her hand, a small sob escaping her lips.

"Rach," Monica began, her eyes shining with tears. Rachel shook her head.

"I-I have to go check on him. You better get back to your cake," she whispered, turning to face the boy's bedrooms.

"Okay," Monica agreed softly. "We'll be in the other apartment."

"Okay." Rachel waited until she heard she door close, then made her way over to Chandler's bedroom.

"Hey," Joey greeted softly as she entered the room. He was sitting on the bed next to Chandler, who was staring at the roof, unblinking. Thankfully he had stopped muttering. Rachel sighed and sat down on the other side of the bed.

"Hey," she greeted back, taking Chandler's tender hand in her own. He didn't pull away this time, which Rachel was thankful for. She stared down at their hands, then glanced up when Chandler's other hand moved. He reached into his shirt and took hold of her family ring, gripping it tightly. Joey looked at Rachel, wondering where the ring had come from. "I gave it to him last night; for good luck," she explained.

Joey nodded, gnawing at his lip.

"So…no one is gonna take him away from us?" he asked after a moment's silence. Rachel shook her head.

"Not right now," she murmured, rubbing Chandler's fingers gently. Joey nodded once more.

"Good…I don't want him somewhere where we can't look after him," he muttered. It was Rachel's turn to nod. She stared at Chandler's blank face, still staring up at the roof. Every now and then tears would spring to his eyes, but he would quickly blink them away. Rachel could imagine what he was thinking.

_He wasn't going to cry; he couldn't, wouldn't, mustn't cry_

She took in a shuddering breath, and then leaned forward.

"Chandler, sweetie? Are you hungry?" she asked gently. Chandler shook his head, still staring at the roof, fingers holding the ring tightly.

"You sure? You were hungry before," she reminded him. Chandler frowned, and then shook his head once more. "Okay, just tell me when you want something to eat." She pressed his hand against her lips, then released it. "I'm gonna go check on the other guys," she said, reluctantly standing. Chandler grabbed her shirt with his free hand, and turned his head to face her.

"Don't let them take me away," he pleaded, his voice little more than a whisper. Rachel shook her head.

"I won't sweetie, I promise you," she whispered. Chandler nodded, and released her shirt. He turned his head to face Joey, who smiled comfortingly at him. Rachel watched him for a moment, then sighed and turned to leave.

"Rach?"

"Yeah Chandler?" she turned back around, hoping that Chandler's blue eyes were on her once more. She was disappointed, but not surprised to find that they were still directed Joey's way.

"I-I might have something to eat later," Chandler said softly. "W-When I don't feel so…sick."

"Okay honey, I'll get Monica to make you some soup." Chandler nodded.

"Thankyou." Rachel glanced up at Joey, then smiled grimly and left the room. Chandler felt his lip tremble, but he ignored it. He wasn't going to cry.

He couldn't.

Wouldn't.

Mustn't.

He wasn't going to cry.


	21. Chapter 21

hey! quick chapter here! I'm trying to get a few out before i go way for a couple of days! Hopefully will be able to post one more chapter before then! Please Read And Review!

I do not own friends/characters/actors, but i would bring Matt Perry chicken noodle soup if he went crazy!

* * *

Chandler lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. There was a long crack that he had never noticed before. He frowned, following the crack slowly with his eyes.

Joey had left only minutes before at Chandler's insistence that he go eat something. It was not in Joey's nature to miss a meal, and Chandler wanted him to look after himself for once instead of worrying about Chandler all the time.

"Hey man." Chandler turned his head to find Ross standing in the doorway, a mug held tightly in his hands.

"Hey," Chandler said dully, turning his attention back to the roof. "What's in the mug?" Ross smiled as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"Chicken noodle soup, compliments of Chef Gellar. You hungry?" Chandler shrugged.

"A bit," he murmured.

"You want to sit up and have some?" Chandler glanced at Ross, his eyebrows raised. Ross was using his 'daddy' voice, and it made Chandler feel like Ben. He couldn't blame Ross though; he wasn't sure what he would do if one of his friends had freaked out the way he had.

"Okay." Chandler slowly sat up and took the mug from Ross. He lifted it to his lips and took a sip. Suddenly, his hunger returned with a vengeance and Chandler downed half the mug without stopping.

"Hey! Slowly!" Ross scolded, and Chandler once again felt like Ben.

"Guess I was hungrier then I thought," Chandler joked weakly, handing the mug back to Ross. His friend set it on the nightstand carefully as Chandler lay back down.

"How are you feeling?" he asked softly. Chandler shrugged again, a sudden giggle escaping his lips. He clamped his hand over his mouth,

"Sorry," he apologized after a moment. "I just feel a little…I don't know. Crazy doesn't seem like the right word, you know?" Ross nodded. He didn't know, but he decided to pretend for Chandler's sake.

"You're going to be okay Chandler," he said gently.

"Are you so sure about that?"

"How long have we known each other?"

"For a long time," Chandler whispered. Ross nodded.

"In all that time, have I ever lied to you?" Chandler shook his head.

"No," he murmured.

"No," Ross agreed. "Why would I start now?" Chandler let out another manic giggle, but didn't try to hide it this time.

"You…you wanted to talk to me? At breakfast, you said…"

"Yeah, I just wanted to…you know, apologize about yesterday. I was out of line," Ross said quietly.

"Maybe I should have listened to you," Chandler whispered. "Then I wouldn't have seen….Sarah."

"No, Chan, then you would have felt guilty. At least you tried."

"I still feel guilty," Chandler said, tears springing to his eyes. "I'm not going to cry, I can't, I won't."

Ross flinched at Chandler's mumbled words but didn't comment on it.

"This isn't your fault Chan," he insisted gently.

"Not my fault," Chandler whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. Ross also closed his eyes, but for only a moment. He hated seeing Chandler like this. What he wouldn't give to be on the receiving end of one of Chandler's jokes. He sighed, and decided to change the subject.

"So, you and Rachel are getting pretty close, huh?" he said as cheerily as he could.

"Yeah." Chandler paused, opening his eyes to glance at Ross. "Are…are you alright with that?" Ross laughed gently.

"Chandler, you don't need my permission."

"I know, but I want it," Chandler whispered.

"I'm alright with it. I admit, it's a bit weird, and I can't say I don't feel a tinge of jealousy, but Rachel and I are over; long gone. We are never going to get back together. I know that now. And plus, you guys deserve to be happy." Chandler bit his lip, turning his head away.

"I-I don't know if Rach and I are going to happen Ross," he murmured.

"What? Why not? You two care about each other!" Ross exclaimed. Chandler shook his head.

"I don't want to hurt her. I'm afraid that if I get to close to her…she's gonna get hurt. I don't want that."

"Chandler, that is crap and you know it," Ross said firmly. Chandler shook his head once more.

"Is it?" he whispered. "Everyone else is getting hurt."

"Chandler! Nicole and Sarah dying was not your fault!" Ross insisted.

"You guys are getting hurt too…I've heard you guys crying, and screaming, and yelling...over me. It may not be hurting you physically, but emotionally-"

"Chan, there is no where else that we would rather be," Ross said gently. "God, we all love you so much, and yes, you're right. It kills us to see you like this, but we want to be here! We are _not _going to leave you Chandler. Do you understand me?"

"I-I don't know Ross," Chandler whispered.

"Yes you do Chandler. We are going to help you, and you are going to get past this, and then everything will be like it was before. Okay?" Chandler wiped at his eyes as they started to sting.

"I can't, I won't."

"Chandler…look at me." Chandler turned his head to face Ross, a dull look on his face. "Everything is going to be okay."

"Okay," Chandler whispered.

"You want some more soup?"

"Okay." Ross helped his friend sit up, and handed him the mug. Chandler took it with shaking hands and slowly lifted it up to his lips.

"Okay. How bout we try and take a shower next, huh? What do you say?"

"Depends on what you mean by 'we'," Chandler joked weakly, smiling faintly. Ross laughed, ruffling his friends' hair gently. The old Chandler was still in there, he thought happily. Just buried under a pile of torment.

"You have a shower, I wait outside," Ross explained. Chandler's smile grew wider, and he glanced up at Ross.

"Okay," he whispered. Ross nodded.

"Okay."

* * *

Rachel sat on the couch, flipping through her and Monica's photo album. There were picture's of Chandler everywhere; laughing, smiling, joking. She took a shuddering breath, stroking one of the photos gently. His 27th birthday party, she recognised. It had been a small party, just the six of them. After the drunken shindig that was his 26th birthday party, Chandler had opted for a quieter affair this time round. They had gotten dressed up and gone to the plaza, but not before stopping for a photo. Phoebe had taken the picture, while the rest of the group had crowded around the birthday boy. Rachel smiled shakily. Chandler –looking so handsome all dressed up – was grinning at something Joey had said. Joey had his arm around Chandler's shoulder, holding him close. Rachel laughed lightly. Those two had always been inseparable. Her gaze moved to the Gellar's. Ross was standing next to Joey, grinning madly while making bunny ears above Joeys head. Monica stood in front of him, poking Joey in the side playfully. Rachel frowned, glancing at herself. She was cuddled up to Chandler, smiling up at him fondly, her hand against his shoulder. Rachel studied the look on her face in shock. It almost looked like a look of-

Had she loved him? Even back then? It was possible that she had, and just didn't know it. Rachel covered her mouth with her hand, letting a tiny sob escape.

She had. She had been in love with Chandler, even when she was with Ross. Possibly even before that. She had fantasised about him; about kissing him that night at the bar. Then there had been the dreams of them having sex on the table. She had always thought that was simply sexual attraction, but what if it had been more? God, what if she had dated Ross to subconsciously cover her feelings for Chandler? She had loved Ross sure, but never as much as she loved-

"Oh god," Rachel moaned in anguish. She had loved him all that time and now she was close to losing him. She leapt to her feet, the photo album falling to the floor; unforgotten. She was losing him. She was going to lose him. He was going to climb those fucking walls and she would lose him forever. She wasn't sure if she could handle that. No, she was _certain _she couldn't handle that. Another sob escaped her lips, and with it came a barrage of tears. She slowly dropped to the floor, covering her face with her hands. She couldn't watch as he slipped away. She just couldn't.

Rachel knew that she was being selfish, but she didn't care. She couldn't watch.

"I can't, I won't," she whispered, mimicking Chandler's mantra. "I can't."

Rachel stood up, and headed to the bathroom.

* * *

Chandler entered apartment 20, shutting the door quietly behind him. He had showered and then joined Ross in watching TV. Chandler was thankful that Ross had suggested a shower; he hadn't realised how gross he had felt until he had gotten under the water. There had been spots of blood up his arms, although Chandler was unsure of how it had gotten there. He had been wearing a long shirt and a jacket the night before. Shrugging his confusion away, he had washed the grime away, and scrubbed at his hands once more. The last of Sarah's blood had left him, and Chandler had smiled slightly. Both the dream and the scene the night before had faded somewhat and he was starting to feel a bit saner. Just a bit. Every now and then a tiny sob escaped his lips, but Chandler had never cried. He couldn't, wouldn't, mustn't. Sometime's a giggle left his mouth and that confused Chandler. He couldn't stop it, and he had no idea why he did it, but it seemed to sooth him somewhat.

When Chandler had left the bathroom, Ross had quickly changed the channel, looking at him worriedly. Chandler had caught a glance of what he was watching –the news- and had seen Sarah's image, for just a second. He had nearly broken down then

_I'm not going to cry_

but had stopped himself, and pushed the image into the back of his mind.

Ross had left not long after that, reluctantly going to see his son. As much as he loved Ben, he was sure that Chandler needed him more at that moment. Chandler had smiled and waved him away, telling him that he would be fine. Ross had nodded, but had still left unenthusiastically.

After a while Chandler had become restless and had decided to go across the hall. Joey had gone to an audition –also reluctantly – and Monica and Phoebe had gone to work, but Chandler was sure that Rachel would be home. He had considered what Ross had said and decided that his friend was right. He and Rachel cared about each other, nothing else mattered. He wasn't going to hurt her, he couldn't.

"Wouldn't, mustn't," Chandler had muttered at that thought, glancing around the girl's living room. Maybe they could go down to Central Perk, he thought, walking further into the room. He hadn't been down there for so long, and he was longing to do something normal. He had to do something to take his mind off of Sarah.

_D-Don't hurt me_

Chandler squeezed his eyes shut briefly, and then pushed the voice out of his head.

"Rach?" he called loudly, glancing over to her bedroom. He walked forward and noticed the photo album on the ground. He picked it up and smiled slightly. His 27th birthday. That had been a fun night, although Monica had drank too much and ended up sick for the next two days, he remembered fondly.

"Rach?" he called once more, setting the photo album gently on the couch. A noise in the bathroom caught Chandler's attention and he wandered over to the slightly ajar door. "Rachel? I'm coming in, okay?" He paused, waiting for Rachel to answer.

_Wait! I'm not decent_

He grinned. She would most likely say that. He waited a moment longer, then frowned. "Rach?" Silence answered him so he pushed the door open and entered.

The room was empty; Chandler noticed with bewilderment. He was sure he had heard a noise. But then, he had been hearing a few noises over the past few days, and most of them had been in his head. He shrugged and turned to leave. It was then that he noticed the pile of clothes in the corner of the room. And the shower curtain; drawn tightly around the bath.

"Rachel?" he whispered, his lower lip trembling. He could see a shadow behind the curtain, but no one answered. "Rach?" He swallowed harshly, the lump returning. He was not going to cry.

Chandler unconsciously had movedcloser and now his hand was reaching forward, as if by its own will. This was a bad idea. He didn't want to see. He should just turn and walk out. If he didn't see it, then it didn't happen, right?

Chandler's hand ignored his thoughts and with one swift motion, the shower curtain was pulled back.

An inhuman moan escaped his lips, his hand unconsciously flying to his mouth.

Rachel was lying naked in the bath, the water tinted red with her blood. Her eyes were open, staring blankly at the ceiling. Her beautiful face was ashen and her lips colourless. Her left hand was submerged in the water, but her right was propped up on the edge of the bath, blood still dripping from the slit in her wrist.

Chandler dropped to the floor, his legs unable to hold him up anymore. He whimpered, staring at her body in horror. She was dead. Oh god.

She was dead.


	22. Chapter 22

Okay, first off, I feel i must warn people: the story is getting progressively darker as it goes along, and there more than likely will not be a happy ending.Please dont stop reading because of that! And, i must tell you that we are getting close to the end...well, okay, there still is about 6 chapter's left (maybe more, maybe less) but we are getting closer! So bare with me! oh, and i keep on forgetting to do this! I must make mention of the story title because i did not make it up. It is the name of one of the songs off the new Backstreet Boys CD, and i didnt chose it because of the whole 'climbing the walls with insanity', that came in later when i decided to incorpirate the name into the story..i chose it because i was listening to the song at the time hehe.

Thankyou for reading, and please continue..and dont forget to review! Oh, and this will be my last chapter for the next few days (I'm going away...again) but i promise that a new chapter will be up by wednesday or Thursday! if not, ya'all can kill me! Toodles!

I don't own friends/characters/actors, but Matt Perry is coming with me and my friend darny (yes, darny2000, the author of 'incomplete' is my best friend) on our trip!

* * *

"No!"

The cry escaped Chandler's lips and he lunged forward. She wasn't dead. She couldn't be dead. "Rachel! Shit! Rachel!" She couldn't be dead.

A door slammed in the other room and keys were set down. He was vaguely aware of a voice calling his name, but payed no attention to it. "Rach? Baby?" he whimpered, grabbing her arm with a trembling hand. Her skin was ice-cold. Chandler let out a tortured cry. She was dead.

"No," he sobbed. "Rachel…" Chandler reached into the bath and wrapped his arms around Rachel's cold, naked, wet body, pulling her close. He stroked her damp hair; his sob's harsh and agonising. She was dead. She was gone. He had let her die.

"Chandler?" there was a horrified gasp. "Oh my god!" And suddenly there were hands grabbing at him; pulling him away from her.

"No!" Chandler screamed, batting at the hands. He pulled Rachel's body closer. "No! I can't leave her! I can't! I won't!"

"Chandler!"

His head was roughly turned and Chandler found himself blinking in surprise.

"Rach?" he whispered.

Rachel nodded, stroking his hair. Her gentle touch was a stark contrast to the harsh way she had turned his head just seconds ago. Chandler gaped at her for a moment, then slowly turned to face the bath once more. It was empty. No blood. No body. No dead Rachel. Empty.

Chandler let out a shuddering gasp. She was alive. She wasn't dead. She was alive. He lunged forward, retching violently. Rachel rubbed his back as he vomited, whispering soothing words in his ear. She had no idea what was going on.

After her crying spell on the floor, Rachel had headed into the bathroom and washed her face, attempting to make herself look presentable. She had also changed; leaving her dirty clothes in a pile on the bathroom floor. She had then taken a cab down to Dr. Mackenzie's office and had a chat with him, then booked an appointment for Chandler the following day. She could have done that all over to phone but the need to get out of the apartment was strong.

Dr. Mackenzie and she had discussed Chandler's behaviour and what they thought was best for him. The psychiatrist had agreed that it seemed too early to have Chandler committed, and Rachel had told him of her fears that she was going to lose him. Alongside Chandler's appointment, she had booked one for herself. Rachel had never gone to a shrink before, but she needed to talk to a professional about this, and had run out of time during her impromptu session. She had returned, feeling a bit better but Chandler's distressed cries had made her heart stop. She had rushed to the bathroom and found him leaning over the bathtub, hysterically crying; his arms wrapped around thin air. The look of sheer disbelief his face had held when he had seen her stuck in her mind. It was as if he expected never to see her again.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Chandler leaned back into Rachel's body –her warm alive body- his own body trembling from shock, exhaustion and the hysterical sobs that still left his mouth. No. He wasn't meant to be crying. He couldn't, wouldn-

"Its okay baby," Rachel soothed, stroking his sweat-soaked hair. Chandler shook his head, clinging to her shirt. "It's okay. You're okay sweetie."

"N-No," Chandler whimpered, shaking his head again. Rachel kissed his brow, pulling him closer. Chandler glanced at her wrists and gasped. They were slit and bleeding. He quickly looked up and let out a cry. Rachel's face was sliced open, blood dripping down her cheeks as she smiled down at him. A couple of teeth were missing and Chandler thought he could see bone through the wounds. He whimpered once more and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that when he opened them, Rachel's face would be back to normal. He opened his eyes slowly and took in a shuddering breath. His hopes had come true. Rachel was back to her normal self, her face unmarred and beautiful.

"Oh god," he moaned, the tears coming once more; stronger this time. He wasn't supposed to cry. He couldn't, wouldn't, mustn't.

But he was.

* * *

Joey studied Chandler's face dejectedly. He had returned from his audition to find Chandler's bed empty. Curiously, he had wandered next door, heading into the bathroom when he heard the choked sobs coming from there. He had found Chandler and Rachel huddled together on the floor, Chandler holding Rachel as if he would die if he let go. The smell of vomit lingered in the air and Rachel had looked up at him helplessly. He had bent down, calling Chandler's name softly. His best friend had turned to him and let out a distressed cry, burying his face once more in Rachel's neck. Joey had been dismayed; Chandler had seemed terrified of him. He had called out Chandler's name once more, and Chandler had shaken his head, muttering his newfound mantra.

_I'm not going to cry. I can't, I won't, I mustn't cry_

Joey swallowed hard, those words scaring him more than anything else. He had glanced at Rachel once more, then leaned over and pulled Chandler into his arms. Chandler had been unwilling, fighting him, but he had given up after a couple of minutes, going limp. Joey had picked him up and carried him to Monica's room, laying him on the bed. Chandler was taller –but slimmer - then Joey, but Joey was quite strong, so carrying him was effortless.

Rachel had cleaned up the bathroom, while Joey sat with their friend. He knew that Rachel had just wanted somewhere to cry in private, so he waited patiently for her return.

"Joe." Chandler's croaky voice caused Joey to jump in surprise.

"Yeah Chan?" he asked softly. Chandler swallowed, glancing at Joey dejectedly. He flinched slightly, causing Joey to frown. He kept doing that, every time he looked at Joey's face.

"D-Did you get the part?"

"No," Joey answered softly. "They were looking for someone taller." Chandler nodded, looking away. His face relaxed slightly, causing Joey's frown to deepen.

"Do….do you see something?" he asked timidly. Chandler glanced at him once more; another flinch. "On my face?"

Chandler shook his head, still looking troubled. To him, Joey's face was sliced open, just as Rachel's had been earlier. Only with Joey, it was a constant thing.

"Are you sure?" Joey pressed. Chandler bit his lip, watching the blood drip from Joey's face onto the bedspread. The blood that wasn't there.

"Yes," Chandler whispered, quickly turning away.

"What about in the bathroom?" Joey continued. "You saw something in the bath, didn't you?"

"No."

"Yes you did," Joey insisted tenderly. "No one freaks out like that without a reason."

"I'm not seeing things," Chandler lied, then let out one of his little giggles. It was strange to claim that while Joey's face said otherwise.

"Are you sure?"

"What will happen if I am seeing things?" Chandler asked in a small voice. Joey leaned forward and placed his hand on Chandler's arm.

"I won't let anyone take you away from us," he said defiantly. Chandler swallowed and nodded.

"I-I saw something," he stammered.

"In the bath?"

"Yes."

"What did you see?" Joey asked gently. Chandler shook his head.

"I don't want to say," he whispered.

"Chandler, if you tell me, I might be able to help." Chandler shook his head once more. "Chandler-"

"I can't, I won't," he insisted.

"Chandler, please!"

"I saw Rachel!" Chandler shrieked suddenly, then clamped a hand over his mouth. Joey looked taken aback.

"You saw Rachel?"

"No, no, no," Chandler whimpered, shaking his head.

"Yes you did, you just said you did," Joey said firmly. Chandler grimaced, looking at Joey's bloody face.

"I-I saw…I saw," he whispered. "I saw Rachel."

"What was she doing?" Joey asked gently. Chandler shook his head.

"I-I can't."

"Chandler-"

"I can't!" Chandler shrieked.

"Whatever you saw; it's not real," Joey said softly.

"I know," Chandler whispered.

"Then why can't you tell me?" Chandler looked at Joey's disfigured face.

"Cause it could be."

"It won't be. Trust me," Joey said soothingly.

"The dreams were real."

"I know Chan. But this won't be." Joey sounded so confident that Chandler decided to believe him. He had to; other wise Rachel was going to die.

"She was dead," Chandler whispered. "The bath was full and the water was mixed with her blood…I thought…I thought it was-"

"Real?" Joey interrupted calmly, although his face told a different story. Underneath the gashes and blood he had a horrified look on his face.

"Yes…I thought I had lost her…and then she was behind me, pulling me back and then the bath was empty." Chandler's voice was strained and unnatural.

"Chandler-"

"What if it is real, Joey? What if Rachel dies? Or if you-" Chandler stopped abruptly, anguish covering his face.

"Me? Why would something happen to me?" Joey asked. Chandler shook his head. "Chan?" Joey suddenly remembered something and grabbed Chandler's arm once more. "What do you see on my face Chan?"

"Nothing," Chandler muttered. It was Joey's turn to shake his head.

"Chandler, what do you see?" Chandler sighed, scrubbing his face with his still-tender hands.

"Your…your face is sliced open…I can see the bone, and it's dripping blood onto the covers…but there is nothing there, is there Joey?"

"No Chandler, there isn't," Joey whispered, a distressed look on his face.

"I saw the same on Rachel…the real Rachel, just before you came in…hers was only there for a second, but yours has been like that the entire time…its…I don't know." Chandler paused, glancing down at his hands. "What do you think it means Joe?"

"I don't know Chan," Joey said softly.

"D-Do you think that something is going to happen to you and Rach?"

"I don't know," Joey repeated. Chandler nodded, looking away.

"It's…its hard for me to look at you," he whispered.

"Do you want me to go?" Chandler shook his head.

"No, please don't leave me." He reached down and grasped Joey's hand. "I'm scared Joe."

"I know buddy; I know."

"I-I…"

"What, Chan?"

"I think I'm losing my mind," Chandler whispered. Joey bit his lip, and nodded miserably. "Are they gonna take me away?"

"I told you before; I wont let anybody take you away," Joey said firmly.

"But what if I stay and something happens to you guys?" Chandler asked. Joey didn't answer.

"Hey guys," Rachel said softly as she entered the room. She had spent the last ten minutes in the bathroom, crying, but you would never be able to tell from her face. Chandler glanced over at her, and breathed a sigh of relief. Her skin was smooth and intact. "How are you feeling sweetie?" Chandler glanced at Joey and was surprised to find his skin smooth as well.

"Better…now," he whispered, squeezing Joey's hand before releasing it. Joey smiled and stood up. "Where are you going?"

"I'll leave you guys to it," Joey said softly. Chandler shook his head.

"Don't go," he insisted. Joey sat back down, patting his arm gently.

"D-Do you want me to go Chandler?" Rachel asked apprehensively. Chandler paused. He kept seeing her body, naked and cold, lying in the bath. Rachel nodded, a shattered look on her face as she backed away from the bed. "Okay," she whispered.

"No!" Chandler exclaimed. "Don't go." Rachel smiled shakily, and walked towards him. She took a seat on the edge of the bed and took his hand.

"Are you going to be okay?" she asked softly. Chandler sighed.

"I really don't know," he murmured, tears springing to his eyes. He wiped at them, repeating his mantra in his head.

He was not going to cry.

* * *

Chandler paced his and Joey's living room tensely, his mind going at a hundred miles a second. He had left apartment 20 half an hour ago, telling his two worried friends that he needed some time alone. They had reluctantly let him go, but Chandler was sure that someone would check on him soon enough. He had already heard the door across the hallway open and close once, but he had a feeling that it had been Phoebe. The image of Rachel, lying dead in the bath, was playing in his mind over and over again, interrupted only by the image of Joey's battered face. Chandler squeezed his eyes shut, covering his face with his hands. He breathed deeply and let his hands drop. What did it mean? Why the hell had he seen those things? Was something going to happen to Rachel and Joey? He shook his head, trying to make sense of it all.

If something was going to happen to them, then why hadn't he seen it in a dream, like with Nicole and Sarah? Maybe nothing was going to happen; maybe he was just being-

"Insane?" Chandler whispered, glancing towards the closed front door. He had figured that much already. When he had started having these dreams he had told himself 'Crazy people don't know they're going crazy. They think they're getting saner'. That had reassured him at the time, but Chandler now knew it was bullshit. He was losing his mind, he knew it. That stupid goddamn saying or quote that he had stolen from a movie or TV show was wrong. He didn't think he was getting saner, but he was certain that he was going crazy. He was seeing things for _god sakes_!

Maybe that had something to do with the brain tumour; some symptoms do include hallucinations, but Chandler knew that the brain tumour was not the cause. He had flipped out; lost his mind; gone nuts, crazy, loony, _insane. _Put it any way you want, it all meant the same thing. Chandler was at the top of the wall now; he had finished climbing and now he had to find a way to get down.

Chandler let out a short giggle, walking to the kitchen. He opened the fridge, and then closed it quickly with a gasp.

_No_

He hadn't seen that; it wasn't real. Chandler took a few deep breaths, and then opened the door once more. The blood was still dripping from the shelves. Chandler swallowed, his stomach twisting. Why was he seeing that? What could he possibly figure out from some random dripping blood?

Chandler closed the door gently, and leant against it. Maybe he was meant to see dripping blood somewhere? He already had; dripping from Joey's face and Rachel's wrists. Chandler trembled, feeling nauseous. They were going to die. He was sure of it now. They were going to die. And it was all because of him.

He was a bad luck charm. Bad luck had always followed him in the past, causing a wave of destruction in its path. Even now, with him wearing Rachel's good luck charm, it still followed. Rachel and Joey were going to die, simply because they knew him. Chandler let out another giggle.

If he stayed near them, they were going to die. Ross, Monica, Phoebe as well. They would all die, because soon he would see them in his dreams, and just like Nicole and Sarah, he would not be able to save him. Tears sprung to his eyes and Chandler swiped at them angrily.

"I am not going to cry," he snapped. "I can't, I won't!"

He was a bad luck charm, and he couldn't stay with his friends. Not anymore. He was killing them. Not only that, while he was there, he was causing them pain. They worried about him constantly, when they should have been living. He was killing them, physically and spiritually. Chandler set his jaw and walked over to his bedroom, leaving the door open behind him. He walked over to the cupboard and opened the door.

Chandler wasn't sure why he had put the knife in there; he had acted on impulse. Making his way to the front door- on his way to see Rachel earlier- he had grabbed the knife and slid it into his cupboard; hiding it between two magazines. He hadn't known why then, but he realised now.

His friends would die if he stayed around. He couldn't let that happen.

Chandler grasped the knife gently, and pulled it out, making sure not to disturb the magazines. He stared at the blade, watching the light dance off of it. He had to do this. He was hurting his friends. He had to do this so they could continue with their lives. Not having to worry about him all the time. Not having to die. Tears stung at Chandler's eyes as he pulled back his sleeves.

"I am not going to cry," he breathed, resting the blade against his wrist. "I can't, I won't, I mustn't."

He pushed down.

The pain was incredible; like nothing he had ever felt before in his life. But to Chandler, it felt like bliss. It was all going to be over soon. His friends could continue on. Chandler lifted the blade up, staring at the flowing blood in wonder. It dripped onto the bedspread, much like Joey's blood had done earlier. Chandler watched it for a moment, and then moved onto the other wrist.

"I am not going to cry," he repeated, resting the blade against his wrist.

"Oh my god," a voice behind him whispered. Chandler whirled around; the blood loss nearly making him lose his footing. He held the knife out, staring at Joey defiantly.

"Don't come any closer," he said as firmly as possible, blinking away the spots that had appeared before his eyes.

"Chandler…oh my god, what have you done?" Joey whispered, starting forward.

"_Don't!" _Chandler screamed, his lip trembling. He was not going to cry.

Joey stopped, glancing warily at the stained knife.

"Chan, you're going to die if you don't let me help you," he said as evenly as he could, but his voice still shook. Chandler giggled. His blood was flowing quicker now, spilling onto the carpet. Chandler could hear his heart beating in his ears; getting louder by the second.

"I know," he whispered. "I-I did this for you guys."

"We don't want this Chandler; we want _you_. Please let me help you," Joey begged, his voice thick with unshed tears. Chandler shook his head.

"Please let me help _you,"_ he insisted, blinking once more. "If I do this, you guys will be fine."

"Chandler, _please!" _Joey sobbed. Chandler shook his head once more, then stumbled, a wave of dizziness hitting him. Joey took that moment to knock the knife out of Chandler's hand and grab him.

"No!" Chandler shrieked, struggling wildly against Joey's hold. "No! Fuck you! Let me go! You bastard, I'm doing this for you! Fuck you, you stupid son of a _bitch!_"

Chandler continued to scream obscenities at Joey, hitting him furiously with his blood covered hands. Joey took the abuse, trying to grab Chandler's sliced wrist with his hand. Dimly, Chandler heard a door open and a voice in the other room.

"Phoebe!" Joey yelled over Chandler's screams. "Call an ambulance! _Now!"_

"Fuck you! Why wont you just let me _die_!" Chandler's screams suddenly turned into sobs and he limply collapsed into Joey's arms. They fell to the floor and Chandler vaguely felt Joey wrap something around his wrist.

"Phoebe!" Joey yelled again, his voice hysterical. Chandler didn't hear Phoebe's response. He was fading quickly. Chandler knew he was dying, and he was glad. Now, his friend's could continue and he would be with Nicole and Sarah. He could stop them from being harmed again.

"It's okay Chandler, everything is going to be okay. You're going to be fine," Joey soothed, his voice shaking. He had wrapped the sheet around Chandler's wrist, but it had done little to ebb the flow of the blood. The blood had quickly soaked through the sheet, and had started dripping on the carpet once more. Joey let out a sob; he couldn't lose his best friend. Not now; not ever. Especially not like this.

"Just let me die," Chandler whispered, his eyes shutting. "I'm doing this for you."

"I'm not going to let you die Chandler; you hear me? Chandler! Chandler, stay with me!"

"Fuck you," Chandler breathed.

And then he was gone.


	23. Chapter 23

Hey ya'all, I'm back from my trip and ready to post! By the way, on my trip i bought the 'friends till the end' book...ya'all prolly dont care, but I'm excited! Thankyou for the review, it meant a lot to me! Please keep going with it! I will try to put the next chapter up either today or tomorrow...depends on if i write it! Oh and i gotta apoligise if their is any mistakes..it is FREEZING here and my hands are frozen solid...makes typing a JOY! hehe please read and review!

I dont own friends/characters/actors but i did buy Matt Perry while shopping! He wasnt cheap either!

* * *

What the…

Chandler screwed up his face in annoyance, the beeping noise growing louder by the second. What was that? What the hell was that noise? Chandler shook his head, trying to clear away the fog that lingered. The beeping noise…he knew what it was, he just couldn't remember. The answer was at the back of his brain, fighting to get ahead. But the fog; it wouldn't let the answer through. Chandler screwed up his face once more.

Where was he? What had happened? And what the hell was making that damn beeping noise?

He knew he wasn't home; the fog was unable to cover that information up. But Chandler wasn't sure exactly _why _he wasn't home. Something had happened, he knew that much, but _what? _

The answer to that question remained elusive, and Chandler groaned slightly. That damned fog again. He shook his head again, but the fog remained. Chandler groaned again; he wanted answers. All he knew at the moment was that his throat ached and his tongue felt like sandpaper in his mouth. There was also a dull throbbing in his left wrist, but Chandler couldn't figure out why.

Footsteps interrupted Chandler's thoughts, causing him to frown. Was that Rachel? Joey? Monica? There really was only one way to find out.

Chandler opened his eyes and blinked. The light was bright, causing a sharp shooting pain in his head. He blinked once more, and the light subsided a little.

His eyes were blurry, but he could make out a figure standing next to a machine. Chandler blinked once more, and his eyes cleared a bit. The figure had curly blonde hair that trailed down her back; almost down to her waist. Chandler frowned once more. Something told him that she should have her hair up, but he wasn't sure why. He glanced past the girl and focused on the machine she was standing in front of. There were numbers and lines on it, and Chandler didn't even bother trying to figure out what it all meant. What he did figure out was that the annoying beeping sound was coming from that machine. Chandler glared at it, wishing it would stop.

The dull throbbing in his left wrist intensified and Chandler lifted his head to look at it, wondering why it was hurting. A wave of nausea hit him and he groaned.

"That's right Mr Bing, just lay back," a voice soothed. Chandler glanced over at the girl with the flowing hair and found that it was her talking to him. She was pretty, but not in a glamorous sort of way. She was attractive in a Drew Barrymore kind of way. Chandler grimaced, wondering why he was ogling the pretty lady when he felt so ill.

The girl leaned over and gently pushed him back down. Chandler didn't bother fighting her hands. "Just lay back," the girl repeated.

"Wha…" Chandler whispered after a moment. He had wanted to say more, but found that his mouth and his brain were not on the same level at that moment. His brain wanted to ask a hundred questions, but his mouth had only produced that whisper, which had not even been a full word. Chandler shook his head in annoyance. The girl smiled gently, understanding his frustration.

"You are in the hospital Mr Bing. You were brought in around twelve hours ago," she explained. Chandler stared at her for a moment. Hospital? Why was he in a hospital? The girl, or nurse as Chandler suddenly realised, smiled at him once more. Chandler cleared his throat, and attempted to speak once more.

"I-I don't-"

"Your friend, Joey I believe, came with you in the ambulance. You lost a lot of blood," she continued. Chandler gasped, the memory hitting him with a vengeance. He had tried to help his friends. That's why his wrist hurt. He had tried to help them, and Joey had stoped him.

"I wanna go home," Chandler said in a small voice, tears filling his eyes. He didn't bother wiping at them. He kept telling himself that he wasn't going to cry –couldn't, wouldn't – but it hadn't stopped him. Chandler wanted to go home. He didn't like hospitals. Every time he was in a hospital, he got bad news. Missing toe, brain tumour, and now this. He wanted to go home, climb into his bed and never face the world again.

"I'm sorry sir, but we can't let you leave. You lost a lot of blood," the nurse said gently.

"Please?" Chandler whispered. That word had worked on his friends in the past; he saw no reason why it wouldn't work now.

"I'm sorry," the nurse repeated. Chandler let out a small sob, turning his head away. "Your friends are in the waiting room. Would you like to see one of them?" the nurse suggested. Chandler frowned, then nodded. "Okay. Who should I bring in?"

Chandler thought for a moment, then answered.

"Joey."

* * *

Joey stared down at his bandaged hand. He had cut it when he had knocked the knife out of Chandler's hand. At the time, he hadn't noticed; his fear and concern distracting him. He had only become aware of it on the ambulance, when one of the paramedics had reached over to help him. Joey had unconsciously assumed that the blood covering his hands had belonged to Chandler, not him. He covered his face with his trembling hands. Chandler's blood. Jesus. He couldn't believe it.

Joey had thought that he could never be more scared then he had been during his friends' seizure. He had been wrong.

He had walked into Chandler's room, intent on merely checking on his friend before returning to the girl's apartment. Phoebe had come over, and she and Joey had been playing poker while Rachel took a much needed nap.

Joey had told Phoebe he would be back in two minutes, and had intended to only take that long. But when he had walked into Chandler's room, his whole world had stopped.

The sight of Chandler with a knife to his right wrist – his left one already dripping with blood – had terrified him to his very soul. He had stood, frozen, for a moment, watching his best friend's blood stain the sheet below. Chandler had muttered his mantra

_I'm not going to cry_

and that had caused Joey's world to start up again. His whispered 'oh my god' had left his lips before he had even been aware that his mouth was opening. Chandler had spun around –nearly falling- and stared at Joey defiantly. His eyes had been wild, and his skin had started to lose its colour.

Joey rubbed his face again, remembering how he had begged Chandler.

_Chandler, please!_

He had known that his friend wasn't going to back down; he was determined to do this. Joey had always known that Chandler would do anything for his friends, even die for them. He knew that Chandler thought that by killing himself, he was saving the rest of them. Joey wasn't sure exactly how he had figured that, but Chandler obviously wasn't thinking clearly.

_I think I'm losing my mind_

Joey bit his lip, keeping the tears from coming. He had been lucky. Chandler would not have let him help, but he had been lucky. The blood loss had caused Chandler to stumble and Joey had acted fast.

He stared down at his bandaged hand once more. He hadn't even felt that, but it had cut deep. The knife had landed on the bed and Joey had grabbed Chandler, pinning his arms to his side. Joey had always prided himself with being stronger then both his male friends –both his _bigger _male friends – but Chandler had proved to be surprisingly strong when agitated. He had easily struggled out of Joey's hold the first time, but Joey had grabbed him once more; holding on tighter this time. It had been a slight improvement, but Chandler had still managed to get his arms free. Joey winced at the memory.

Chandler's hands had hurt; hitting him over and over with his blood covered hands. They had hurt a lot, but had been no where near as painful as Chandler's angry screams.

_No! Fuck you! Let me go! You bastard, I'm doing this for you! Fuck you, you stupid son of a bitch_

Joey shook his head, trying to get the memory out of his mind. Chandler had been furious at him. He had never heard his best friend so angry; never heard his best friend scream those words. Not at him anyway. Joey had tried to ignore the screams, and had concentrated on trying to grab Chandler's wrist. He knew very little about first aid, but what he did know was that he had to stem the blood flow. Chandler's thrashing arms had made that difficult, but Joey had once again been lucky.

He had heard Phoebe's voice in the other room, and had screamed for her to call an ambulance. Joey wasn't sure why Chandler had stopped; maybe it was because Phoebe was calling for help. Maybe he had been exhausted. Maybe it had been the blood loss. Maybe he had given up; given in. Joey wasn't sure why, but he was thankful for it. Chandler had collapsed – sobbing – in his arms and Joey had been unprepared for the sudden weight. They had fallen in a heap to the floor, and Joey had grabbed the first thing he saw that looked practical; the sheet. He had wrapped it around Chandler's wrist, but the blood had soaked through almost instantly. Joey had screamed Phoebe's name once more; panic hitting him with full force. He couldn't stop the blood flow. Chandler was going to die if he continued bleeding like that, and Joey couldn't stop the blood flow. He had whispered comforting words in his friend's ear, trying to reassure not only Chandler, but himself.

A sob escaped Joey's lips as he remembered how Chandler's body had gone limp; his eyes shutting. Joey had thought for a second that Chandler was gone, but then he had whispered those words.

_Fuck you_

Joey had started sobbing then. His best friend was dying. He may never speak to him again, and the last words exchanged between them had been hurtful ones.

Phoebe had run in at that moment, a scream coming from her mouth. She had rushed over, pulling the sheet away and covering Chandler's wrist with something else. A sweater, Joey had realised. That would work better, it was thicker then a sheet.

Phoebe had whispered to Joey that the ambulance was on its way, and Joey had nodded. He hadn't been sure why Phoebe had chosen to whisper; he still wasn't.

They had sat in silence until the paramedic's had come, both watching Chandler with fearful eyes. His face had paled considerably; his lips losing their colour. Joey had noticed in horror that his friend's breathing had become laboured, and he had been about to say something to Phoebe when the paramedics had come in.

Joey couldn't remember much of what happened next; it had been a blur. He remembered getting on the ambulance with his friend, instructing Phoebe to tell Rachel. He remembered the paramedic reaching over to help with his hand. He remembered Chandler' pale face. But that was it.

Somehow they had ended up at the hospital; the paramedics whisking Chandler away. Joey had collapsed in a chair, and sat there, in shock, for god knows how long. Someone had grabbed his hand and he had looked up to find Rachel looking at him, her face surprisingly calm. She didn't know, he had thought. She wouldn't look that calm if she had known.

Rachel had handed him a change of clothes, and Joey had stared down at the garments in confusion.

"Why don't you go get changed?" she had suggested gently. Phoebe had nodded behind her. Joey had frowned, then looked down at his clothes. He had been covered in blood. Joey had rushed to the bathroom, and painfully heaved into the toilet bowl. Once he had finished, Rachel had helped him get changed. She had gotten a funny look from a guy, wondering why she was in the men's toilet, but Rachel had politely told him to go away.

"Fuck off, you stupid bastard," she had said. The guy had looked at her in shock, then left. Joey had laughed lightly, and Rachel had smiled grimly back at him.

They had returned to the waiting room, where Monica and Ross had joined Phoebe. They had sat in silence until a nurse with flowing blonde hair – Nurse Evans - had come to talk to them. Joey had briefly thought that she reminded him of Drew Barrymore, but that thought went out his head when she spoke.

Chandler was okay. He was going to be okay.

Rachel had cried then; the first real emotion Joey had seen from her since arriving at the hospital. Monica and Phoebe had also cried, while Joey and Ross had breathed a sigh of relief. The nurse had left them, and they had continued to sit there.

It had been twelve hours and they were still sitting there. Joey was sure that they would sit there for an eternity, if that was the case. They had to be there for Chandler.

Joey glanced at Monica. She was staring off into space, a blank expression on her face. Joey wondered what she was thinking about. Most likely she was thinking about Chandler. Maybe she was daydreaming about before; when things had been normal. Joey had been doing that all day. He had been thinking about when he and Chandler had first met. Chandler had pretty much given him the brush-off, taking all of five seconds to show him around the apartment. Joey understood why; he had heard about the other applicants' sister. Joey hadn't had a chance. He knew that if he had been in Chandler's position, he would have chosen the other guy as well. Joey smirked, remembering how he had told Chandler he was fine with the gay thing. Chandler had looked offended, and Joey had realised that he had struck a nerve. He had quickly corrected himself, but had left realising that he had just blown his chance. He had also realised how hot Chandler's neighbour had been, and the way that Monica had acted around him. Joey had thought that even if he didn't get the apartment, he would still come back, just to see her again.

Joey had been surprised to hear from Chandler; he had been sure that he wasn't going to be accepted. They had bonded quickly, over Baywatch and beer, and had been inseparable since.

Joey moved his glance to Ross. He had felt intimidated by the guy at first. Ross had been so smart; knowing things that Joey had never even heard about. Chandler had understood the majority of it. He had teased Ross about it, but he had understood. Joey had felt intimidated by that. Chandler was smart, and Joey wasn't. Not as smart as those two anyway. He had been sure for a while that Chandler would become impatient with him after a while, and start hanging out with Ross more and more. That hadn't been the case, and Joey knew now that he should never have been worried about that. Chandler wasn't that type of guy. Joey had also been intimidated by the fact that Ross and Chandler were such close friends. There had been a few times where he had thought about coming between them, and he felt guilty because of that. The three had all become close friends, but Joey knew that Chandler had started to favour him. That added to his guiltiness. He had seen the hurt look on Ross's face several times. Joey sighed, moving his attention to Phoebe.

The first thing that Joey had noticed when he had met Phoebe was that she was hot. That was his first impression about a lot of girls, but Phoebe had something different. She was weird, quirky, and fun. She was a lot like Joey at times, and they had bonded quickly because of that. Joey smiled, watching Phoebe twist her hair absentmindedly. Phoebe wasn't like most girls, and Chandler had teased her constantly because of it, but Phoebe had dished it out, right back at him. Joey knew that this secretly impressed Chandler. He enjoyed having someone he could receive a mocking from; someone to have pointless conversations with.

Joey glanced at Rachel, who was flipping through a magazine. She had been a spoilt princess when she had arrived. Joey had been attracted to her looks, but had disliked her personality at first. His thoughts had been quickly changed when he realised what an amazing woman Rachel really was. Underneath all that perfect hair, make up, and princess complex, there was a sweet and wonderful girl. Rachel had blossomed into an independent woman, and she had quickly become one of Joey's favourite people. Chandler had been wary of her at first, thinking the same as Joey. But he had quickly grown to like her, and had enjoyed her company a lot. Joey was unsure when he had stopped liking her and had started loving her, but it didn't really matter. There had always been chemistry between the two, and Joey had to admit they looked great together. Ross and Rachel had been wonderful, but Joey knew that Rachel had been hurt by Ross. There was no chance of the two getting back together. Chandler and Rachel were perfect together; he only wished that they had realised their feelings before all this had happened.

"Excuse me." Joey glanced up to find the nurse with the curly blonde hair. Nurse Evans, he reminded himself.

"How's Chandler? Is he awake?" Rachel asked immediately. Nurse Evans smiled.

"Yes, he woke up a few minutes ago," she said softly.

"Is he okay? Can we see him? Is he okay?" Rachel demanded. Nurse Evan's smile grew wider.

"He's okay. He's a bit disorientated, and withdrawn."

"Does he remember what happened?" Monica asked quietly.

"I think so. He didn't say whether or not he did, but he seemed quite distressed when I told him that he had lost a lot of blood," the nurse said in a gentle voice.

"He remembers," Joey whispered. "How could he forget?"

"Can we see him?" Rachel asked once more. "I mean…does he want to see us?"

"I asked him, and he said yes. But only one person can go in," Nurse Evans explained. Rachel immediately stood up, then glanced at her friends.

"Y-You guys don't mind if I-"

"Actually, he requested that Joey go in," the nurse interrupted. Rachel sat back down, a dejected look on her face. She nodded.

"Me?" Joey exclaimed. He had been sure that Chandler wouldn't want to see him; that he would be angry at him.

"Yes. He seemed quite adamant about it." Joey wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but he assumed that Chandler really wanted to see him. A small smile played across his lips as he stood up.

"Okay." He turned to face his friends, glancing at Rachel in particular. She smiled weakly at him, but Joey knew that she was irritated. "I'll be back soon."

Joey followed Nurse Evans to room 134, listening to her talk on the way.

"Dr. Mackenzie is going to come in for a psych evaluation. Your friend Ross said that Chandler had talked to him before. He will probably be in either today or tomorrow. We don't know how long Chandler will have to stay here; it really depends on what Dr. Mackenzie says. Dr. Phillips will also be up to check on him, see how things are going upstairs." Joey nodded at her words, and they stopped in front of Chandler's room. "Don't be surprised if he seems a bit reserved. He's been through a traumatic experience." Joey nodded again.

"I know; I'm getting used to him being reserved," he murmured. Nurse Evans smiled tightly, and then opened the door.

"I'll be right out here if you need anything," she said softly.

"Thankyou."

Joey entered room 134, shutting the door quietly behind him. He glanced at the bed, grimacing slightly. Chandler had his back turned to him, but Joey knew that his friend had heard him come in.

"Chandler?" Joey said softly, walking up to the bed. Chandler turned his head to face him, and Joey bit his lip to stop from crying. His face was still way too pale, and there were tears running constantly down his face. What upset Joey the most though, were Chandler's eyes. They had always been vibrant, full of life. Even throughout this whole experience, Chandler's eyes had still held a spark in them. That spark was now gone, and his eyes were dull and lifeless. "Hey buddy," Joey whispered, patting Chandler's arm gently. He glanced at the bandage around Chandler's left wrist, swallowing hard. He could still picture the blood running freely, taking Chandler's life away. Chandler watched Joey's face for a moment, with a look on his face that Joey couldn't quite place. It wasn't anger, it wasn't sadness, and it wasn't happiness. It was…Joey wasn't sure. It unnerved him all the same, having Chandler's dead eyes on him with am odd look on his face. "Nurse Evans said you wanted to see me?" Joey tried once more. Chandler watched him for a moment longer, and then turned his face away, staring at the machine next to him.

"You should have let me die." Joey closed his eyes at Chandler's whispered words.

"Chan-"

"Why couldn't you just listen to me? You should have let me die," Chandler whispered again.

"Chandler, I-"

"That's all I wanted to say. Now get out." Joey stared at Chandler's back in shock.

"What?"

"_Get out!" _Chandler screamed suddenly, turning back to face him. "You never listen to me! Get out! Get the fuck out of here!"

Joey backed away, his eyes filling with tears.

"Chandler," he whispered, his voice pained.

"Out!" Chandler shrieked. "You're pathetic Joey! You can't even follow a goddamn order! You should have let me die! Fuck you, you bastard! Get out! Get the fuck out!"

Joey turned and fled the room, loudly shutting the door behind him. He slammed his back against the door, and dropped to the floor.

"Are you okay?" Nurse Evans asked worriedly. Joey raised his trembling hands to his face.

"He hates me," he whispered. "My best friend hates me." Nurse Evans shook her head.

"He's just upset," she said softly. Joey shook his head.

"No. You heard him. He hates me."

Nurse Evans watched helplessly as Joey started to sob. She glanced at the closed door, and sighed.

"He hates me," Joey repeated, his voice thick with tears.

"It's gonna be okay," Nurse Evans soothed. Joey shook his head once more.

"No, it isn't. I know that now." He glanced up from his hands, tears still streaming from his face.

"_Nothing_ it ever going to be okay again."


	24. Chapter 24

Good morning campers! I trust ya'all had a lovely night! I did, i was up half the night writing this chapter and planning the next three! So please do enjoy this chapter, and i gotta say, if Chandler seems a bit out of character...well, we havent exactly seen him try to kill himself and go crazy on the show, so we dont really know how he would react! This could be IN character for him! Oh, and once again, any people with medical and/or psychology experience...i must once again say sorry for any silly little mishaps i may have written...I'm 18 and a creative writing student, not a doctor! And i must give credit to the great Johnny Depp...one of the lines in this was inspired by a quote of his. His quote was about airplane food, mine is about hospital food...see if ya can spot it! I shall post a new chapter soon! Please R&R!

I do not own friends/characters/actors, but seeing it is so cold here at the moment that my fingernails are blue, Matt Perry is here keeping me warm! Yowza!

* * *

Rachel watched Joey's face, her concern growing as each minute passed. Joey had returned half an hour ago, a shattered look on his face. He had told them what Chandler had said, and had not said anything since. Rachel wasn't sure what to think. She wanted to be angry at Chandler for hurting Joey that way, but she found that she couldn't. He was upset; he had been taking his anger out on Joey. That's what she kept on telling herself. Chandler had tried to…he had tried to kill himself and Joey had stopped him. Of course Chandler was going to be upset at Joey. He had been determined to do this; to put a stop to everything, and Joey had stopped him. If she had been in Chandler's shoes, she would have reacted the same way.

Rachel still felt sorry for Joey though. When the nurse had said that Chandler wanted to see him – not her – Rachel had been annoyed and upset. Why didn't he want to see her? But once Joey had returned, the irritation had left her. She knew why Chandler had wanted to see Joey now.

Rachel had been thinking earlier; while they had waited for Chandler to wake up. She had thought for a moment that maybe they were being selfish. Chandler's life was in disarray; he was having horrific dreams that he couldn't stop. He was losing his mind. Perhaps it would have been best if he just ended it then. Best for him anyway. But his friends had selfishly kept him alive. They loved him, and although they were devastated that he was in pain, they preferred to keep him alive – to keep him in pain – then to let him go, where he would finally be okay.

She had thought that and it had saddened her. They were being selfish. But, the way she saw it, was that they may only have a short time left with Chandler, and they should enjoy their time together while they still can. That thought was pointless, because they certainly weren't enjoying the time. In fact, she had come to loathe this situation. She had hated it before, fearing for both Chandler's sanity and his life, but now, now that his life had nearly ended and his sanity had nearly left him, Rachel _loathed _the situation.

She had always thought that the word 'loathe' seemed so evil. It was so much worse then the word 'hate'. But loathe fit this situation perfectly. It _was _evil. The fact that Chandler was in any sort of pain was downright sinful. Rachel rubbed her face with her hands, glancing at Joey once more.

He was devastated. She could see that from his face. Rachel had a feeling that Joey cared about Chandler more than anyone else in his life; more then his sisters, or even his parents. Chandler meant the world to him, and now his world had been shattered. He believed that the most important person in his life hated him, and Rachel knew that Joey was blaming everything on himself.

"H-How did he look?" she asked quietly, desperate for someone to speak. Joey looked over with sad eyes, and sighed.

"He still looked so pale, and so small and frail," Joey said softly. "And his eyes…"

"What about his eyes?" Ross asked gently.

"Well…Chandler has always had that spark in them, you know? Even through the worst of times. Even during this entire dream and brain tumour situation, there was still a bit of a spark. But that spark is gone now. His eyes are….they're dead. It's like, I don't know. It's like his spirit has died or something." Joey scrubbed at his face, and then continued. "That's what terrified me. Not the paleness, or the tears, or how small he seemed. The look in his eyes…that was the thing that got to me. Chandler is, he's _gone! _He isn't Chandler anymore, he's like…I don't know."

Monica reached over and took Joey's hand, rubbing his fingers gently.

"He's still Chandler, sweetie," she said softly. Joey glanced up at her, his face tight with emotion. "He's just…he's having a hard time at the moment."

"I know," he whispered.

"Rachel? Rachel Green?" Rachel looked up at the mention of her name and found Nurse Evans smiling at them.

"That's me," Rachel said warily, standing up. The nurse grinned at her.

"Chandler would like to see you," she said softly. Rachel nodded, glancing once more at Joey. He smiled desolately at her and Rachel felt a pang of grief. She smiled back, but selfishly she hoped that her visit would go better then Joey's had.

Rachel followed the blonde nurse to Chandler's room, listening to her talk on the way.

"Dr. Mackenzie is going to come in for a psych evaluation. Your friend Ross said that Chandler had talked to him before. He will probably be in either today or tomorrow. We not sure how long Chandler will have to stay here; it depends on what Dr. Mackenzie says. Dr. Phillips will also be up to check on him, see how things are going upstairs." Rachel frowned at her words; they sounded almost rehearsed. Perhaps they were. Or perhaps she had said the same thing to Joey. Rachel didn't know. She glanced at the door to room 134, feeling nervous. She wasn't sure how Chandler was going to react.

"Are you his girlfriend?" Rachel raised her eyebrows in surprise. She knew that the nurse hadn't asked Joey _that _question.

"I-I don't really know," she answered honestly. "I want to say yes, but we haven't really…you know, confirmed it or anything. We've had other things on our mind." Nurse Evans nodded, smiling tightly.

"Yeah, I understand," she said softly, then quickly turned back into professional mode. "Don't be surprised if he seems a bit reserved. He's been through a traumatic experience."

_Rehearsed, _the little voice in Rachel's head screamed. She ignored it. It didn't matter whether or not the nurse prepared for this. All that mattered was that Chandler was in the next room.

"Yeah, okay…thankyou," Rachel said softly. Nurse Evans smiled gently and opened the door.

"I'll be right out here if you need anything," she said softly. Rachel nodded.

"Thankyou," she repeated and entered the room, shutting the door behind her. Chandler had his back to her, and Rachel wondered for a moment if he was asleep. No. His breathing was different when he was sleeping. She had noticed that the first time she caught him feigning sleep. Rachel walked over to the bed and laid a hand on his shoulder. Chandler jumped, and slowly rolled over.

"Hi sweetie," Rachel whispered, smiling down at him. Joey had been right; Chandler was pale and forlorn, but the worst thing about him was his eyes. They did indeed look dead. Chandler stared at her and Rachel began to feel uneasy. Would he react the way he did to Joey? Or would he do something else entirely? Rachel glanced down at Chandler's bandaged wrist, swallowing harshly. She hadn't seen it; she didn't know how bad it was. Only Joey, Phoebe and the paramedics knew. Phoebe had told her what she had seen, but Rachel knew that what she imagined was no where near as bad as what had been. She had never been that good at imagining things. Rachel swallowed again and looked back to Chandler's face. He was still staring at her, so Rachel smiled weakly. "I missed you." Chandler's lip trembled and he grabbed her hand.

"Rach," he whimpered, pulling her closer. Rachel sat down on the bed, and used her free hand to stroke his hair.

"It's okay baby," she whispered. Chandler shook his head, tears spilling over. He didn't sob, the tears running silently down his cheeks.

"I wanna go home Rach," Chandler whimpered once more. Rachel nodded.

"I know baby, I know. I want you to come home too. But you aren't allowed to; not yet."

"Please?" Chandler pleaded. Rachel's heart broke, but she shook her head.

"I'm sorry sweetie," she whispered. Chandler squeezed his eyes shut.

"I'm sorry," he sobbed.

"For what?"

"For this! I-I had you…so worried and Joey, and Pheebs and it hurt so much, but I had to do it; I had to save you! But you guys were so worried, and I just wanted the dreams to stop…but not as much as I wanted to save you. I would have a lifetime of dreams if it meant that you guys were safe, but you guys aren't safe. I'm a fucking bad luck charm!" Rachel stared at Chandler in shock, his little outburst startling her. She hadn't expected that from him, but then, Chandler had been unpredictable as of late.

"No sweetie, you're not a bad luck charm; far from it," she soothed.

"Yes I am," Chandler whispered.

"No, you're not. If you are anything, you are a good luck charm. I can't remember the last time I had bad luck; I certainly haven't had any while I've known you."

"What about you and Ross?" Chandler asked softly. Rachel smiled.

"Well, that had nothing to do with you. If anything, Ross was the bad luck charm then," she explained. Chandler glanced down at his hands; at his wrist.

"What about…what about all this?"

"This isn't caused by bad luck Chandler. It's just….its a bump in the road," Rachel soothed. A ghost of a smile appeared on Chandler's face.

"Bump in the road," he repeated. Rachel smiled.

"Yeah. And just like a bump, we can get over it. Or we can go past it. Either way, we are going to make it through this."

"I wanna go home," Chandler whispered again. Rachel sighed.

"Soon, sweetie."

"How soon?"

"I don't know. Couple of day's maybe?" Chandler turned his head away at her words, taking a deep breath.

"I-I can't stay here…I'm so scared," he admitted. Rachel nodded.

"I know sweetie, so am I."

"Will they send me away?" Chandler asked after a moment's silence. Rachel bit her lip.

"Not if I have anything to do with it," she said firmly. Chandler nodded, then started to cry again. Rachel leaned over and hugged him, careful not to pull anything important out; namely, the IV that was attached to him.

"I don't want to be here!" Chandler sobbed into her shirt. Rachel wasn't sure if he meant the hospital or 'here' in general. She hoped it wasn't the latter. Did he still want to kill himself? She didn't know, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to know either.

"It's gonna be okay honey," Rachel whispered, kissing his forehead softly. Chandler pulled away slightly, and pressed his lips against hers; kissing her with desperation. He needed to feel comfort; to feel love. Rachel pulled away after a few moments and hugged his head to her chest, stroking his hair once more.

"Don't leave me Rach," Chandler pleaded, sounding terrified. Rachel felt his hand curl around her shirt. She pressed her lips against his forehead once more.

"I'm not going to leave you baby; not now, not ever." Chandler nodded, clinging to her.

"I'm not going to cry. I can't, I won't, I mustn't." Rachel trembled slightly, his muttered words chilling her. She hated those words. They terrified her.

"It's gonna be okay," she whispered. She wasn't sure who she was saying that to; Chandler or herself. But it worked for Chandler. He nodded, relaxing slightly. And Rachel, she wanted to believe it.

She had to.

* * *

"So, you saw Rachel, dead in the bath," Dr. Mackenzie confirmed. Rachel stared at Chandler in shock as he nodded. She hadn't been told what he had seen in the bath; she had assumed that he had seen Sarah or Nicole. But he had seen her, dead.

Rachel covered her mouth with her hand, feeling nauseous. She could only imagine what Chandler must have been going through. She could understand now why Chandler had been so upset, why he had looked at her with such a shocked look on his face. He must have been so stunned; so confused.

"Yes," Chandler said, his voice barely above a whisper. He glanced up at Rachel briefly, then went back to studying his hands. Rachel sighed. Chandler had been an array of emotions all the night before and that morning. Rachel had grudgingly left him late the night before, at persistence by the hospital staff. She hated rules. Why couldn't they have let her stay? The look on Chandler's face as she had left the room had been the main cause of her tears that night. He had looked so lost; so alone.

Rachel had worried all that night. When she was there, she could take care of him. But when she wasn't, anything could happen. Rachel was terrified that Chandler was going to try to hurt himself again.

She had arrived early that morning; her friends trailing behind her. Joey had stayed home, feeling unwelcome in Chandler's room. The group had tried to convince him to come, but Joey had been adamant. They had left him, and come to the hospital, where the other's finally had been able to see Chandler.

He had been glad to see Monica and Ross but had been a bit wary around Phoebe. Rachel was sure that he knew she had been the one to call the ambulance; the one who had made the phone call to save his life. Phoebe had understood, and stayed quiet throughout the visit.

The group had spent the morning talking about past memories; each person trying to outdo the last with their most outrageous memory. Chandler had been in good spirits, which hadn't surprised Rachel. He seemed fine when he had something to distract him; something to take his mind off of things. He had even been making jokes, but the spark was still missing from his eyes. Rachel wondered if it would ever return.

She had been slightly upset by the fact that Chandler hadn't asked where Joey was; hadn't even seemed surprised when the Italian hadn't followed them in. Rachel wasn't sure if Chandler had forgiven Joey, and figured that Joey was avoiding him, or if Chandler was still angry at him. She had a sinking feeling that it was the latter.

Breakfast had arrived late, and Chandler had stared in distaste at the mess that was his meal.

"Hospital food is a bit of an oxymoron isn't it?" he had said, making everybody laugh. He was right though. To claim that what he had on his plate was 'food' was ridiculous. His meal consisted of a rubbery poached egg, two rashers of bacon that looked a week old and a burnt piece of toast. Chandler had sighed and picked up the knife and fork, staring at them with a sardonic look on his face.

"Plastic, huh?" he had muttered. Rachel had flinched at his words. He had been given plastic cutlery as a precaution, but she knew that plastic could still do a lot of harm.

Chandler hadn't seemed upset by the knife and fork; he had seemed more amused. That had confused the rest of the group, but they had said nothing, watching as Chandler grudgingly dug into the meal. He had eaten little, but claimed that he was full. Rachel knew that wasn't true, but once again didn't say anything. Phoebe had left the room then, much to the confusion of the other's. Chandler had called out her name, sounding crushed. Rachel had assured him that she would be back, and she had returned, her arms filled with snacks. Chandler had grinned; the first smile in days that had reached his eyes. He had taken a packet of M&M's from Phoebe, kissing her cheek gratefully. Phoebe had giggled, and Rachel and the Gellar siblings had breathed a sigh of relief. Chandler had seemed a lot friendlier with the blonde after that, much to everyone's relief. He seemed to have forgiven Phoebe, and they could only hope that he would soon be able to forgive Joey.

Dr. Mackenzie had arrived soon after that, and Phoebe, Monica and Ross had quickly left the room, with a promise that they would return later. Rachel had remained; Chandler had pleaded that she did.

Mackenzie had gotten right into it, asking about the brain tumour and such, and it had all been going well until the bathtub incident had been brought up. Chandler had become reserved and twitchy, avoiding Rachel's glance as much as possible. She now knew why.

"And you thought it was real?" Dr. Mackenzie asked gently.

"I was _sure_ it was real," Chandler murmured, picking at the blanket with his good hand. His left hand had been causing him a few problems, so Chandler had been using his right for most things; something that wasn't uncommon, seeing he was right handed. "I-I felt her skin; I could _feel _her! She was so cold, and…dead, and the blood. I could smell it, and feel her hair. And I held her body in my arms, and she was _there!" _Chandler had gone from withdrawn to agitated in a matter of seconds, causing Rachel to flinch. She hated how unpredictable and edgy he had become. "I was so scared. I thought I had lost her," Chandler finished, his voice lowering once more. He glanced at Rachel, a grim look on his face. Rachel stared back at him, still shocked by what she had just heard.

"Then what happened?" Dr Mackenzie questioned. Chandler glanced back down at his hands.

"I-I…I was crying and Rachel was holding me, and then I could still see the cuts on her wrists, and her face was split open a-and bleeding and I could see the bone and I blinked and it was gone." Chandler watched as the doctor made a note in his book. Most likely nothing good, he thought, giggling slightly. Dr Mackenzie looked up in surprise at the noise. "Sorry," Chandler said softly.

"Don't apologise," Dr. Mackenzie said gently. Chandler nodded, glancing at Rachel once more. Her face was stricken; Chandler knew that this was the first time she had heard all this. It must have been quite a shock. "So, her face returned to normal?"

"Yeah…and I don't know…I was crying and then Joey was there and I looked at him and his face was the same…only his stayed that way, no matter how much I blinked. He took me to Monica's room, and we talked for a while. His face returned to normal once Rachel entered the room."

"You and Joey talked?" Dr. Mackenzie pressed. "About what?" Chandler sighed, rubbing his face with his good hand. He then proceeded to tell the doctor about his and Joey's talk, then continued to talk about what had happened up until he had passed out –nearly died - in Joey's arms. Rachel listened intently; once again, it was the first she had heard of it. He had been terrified of losing her; not only her, but Joey and the rest of their group. Rachel frowned at the mention of the dripping blood in the fridge, and then smiled sadly as Chandler explained his thoughts at that point. He had believed –no, not believed, _known _– that he had lost his mind. He had been sure that his friends would die, that he was a bad luck charm, just as he had said before. He believed that, because Sarah and Nicole had died, that his friends would too…that they would die because they simply knew him. Chandler had decided that the only way to save them was to make himself disappear.

"I-I had put the knife in my closet…I hadn't been sure why I did that till that moment. I think I had known, unconsciously known what I was going to do. I had to leave them because they were going to die. I could have just moved away; left in the middle of the night and start up somewhere new, but then the dreams would have continued…and I would have been lonely. So I thought, what the hell, you know?" Chandler let out another giggle, his good hand gesticulating wildly. He seemed so at ease about the whole thing, but Rachel knew that it was a façade. So did Dr. Mackenzie apparently.

"You decided to hurt yourself because you believed that it would save your friends?"

"No, I decided to _kill_ myself because I _knew _it would save my friends," Chandler answered matter-of-factly, the firm look on his face daring the psychiatrist to challenge him. Which is exactly what the good doctor did.

"Chandler, you know that isn't true."

"What do you know!" Chandler yelled suddenly, glaring at the doctor. "You study for a few years, get a degree, and suddenly you know everything? You don't know anything about me! Not a goddamn thing!"

"Chandler-" Rachel started.

"I know that you are hurting Chandler," Dr. Mackenzie said softly. "That you are doubting yourself; doubting your decision to end your life; doubting your decision to leave your friends behind. You are scared, and angry. You want the dreams to stop, but know that isn't going to happen. You claim that you tried to end your life to save your friends, but really you are using that as an excuse; you only did it to stop the dreams."

"Fuck you," Chandler snapped, his eyes finally showing some life.

"Chandler!" Rachel exclaimed, ready to reprimand him.

"Let him finish Rachel," Dr. Mackenzie told her.

"Do you really think I am that selfish?" Chandler hissed. "That I would leave all my friends, because I wanted _my _pain to stop? I would gladly have these dreams for the rest of my life; for the rest of _eternity _if it meant that my friends were okay! I don't care about the dreams, I care about them! You claim you know so much about me, yet you think that I would be that egotistical! I had to do this! I had to save them! I had to _protect _them!"

"By ending your life?"

"Yes!" Chandler insisted, his face flushed with anger.

"By effectively leaving your friends; going somewhere where you would never be able to protect them, never be able to save them again? What if something happened and you weren't there to save them Chandler? Because you _believed _that you had been doing the right thing by leaving? Or what if, you ending your life, had effected your friends in such a way that they also became self destructive, and ended up getting themselves killed? Would that be protecting them Chandler?" Rachel stared at the doctor in shock. He had hit the nail right on the head. Chandler also stared at the doctor, a blank look on his face.

"I-I…I never…I didn't think," he stammered. Dr. Mackenzie nodded.

"A human life is a very precious thing Chandler. It should not be ended before it's time. Whatever problems you are having, you can get through with help. The dreams, they are a horrible thing, but you can get past it. Your friends need you Chandler. They are not going to die because you are around. They _are_ going to, however, be devastated if you leave them. You are a strong man Chandler. You can fight this." Dr Mackenzie stood, picking up his folder. "I'll leave you to it. I'll be back tomorrow for another evaluation, and if things go well, you may be out by tomorrow night." Chandler perked up at this, his face lighting up slightly.

"Really?"

"_If _things go well. And if you are given the all clear by the doctor. I'll see you tomorrow." Dr Mackenzie walked to the door and opened it, then turned around. "Oh and Chandler?"

"Yeah?" Chandler whispered.

"You really need to talk to Joey. He did a good thing, saving your life. He is not the bad guy here; you have to stop blaming him for saving you. He did what he thought he had to, and he turned out to be right." Dr. Mackenzie walked out, shutting the door gently behind him.

"He doesn't seem as cheerful as I remember," Rachel murmured, then turned to Chandler, who was looking down at his foot. His toes were tingling. "But he is right. You have to talk to Joey. And you _have _to get the idea that hurting yourself will help us, out of your head!" Chandler glanced at Rachel, then lay down on the bed, shutting his eyes. "Chandler?"

"I'm tired," Chandler muttered. Rachel sighed, and grabbed his good hand.

"Just think about what Dr. Mackenzie said, alright?"

"Okay," Chandler said meekly, his eyes staying closed. He shook his foot, trying to get rid of the tingling sensation.

"Okay. I'm going to go check on the other guys. I'll be right back, okay?"

"Okay," Chandler repeated, his voice sounding far away. Rachel sighed again, then placed a kiss on his brow. Chandler waited until she had left the room before opening his eyes once more. He glanced at his still tingling foot, and then moved his attention to his right hand. It was twitching without mercy. Chandler frowned, lifting his hand closer to his face. He watched it jerk and shake for a moment, then let it drop back down to the bed. He would deal with that later, he thought as he shut his eyes. He would deal with everything later.

He needed his sleep.


	25. Chapter 25

Hey guys! Sorry for the delay...had a nice case of writer's block hehe. But i'm all good now! Thanks for the reviews, and i promise more soon! tata!

* * *

Chandler didn't talk to Joey, nor did he go home the next day.

The tingling that he had felt in his foot, the tremors that had taken over his hand, had turned out to be the beginning of a full blown seizure. Grand Mal Seizure, they had called it. Chandler didn't really give a damn what it was called. All he knew was that the tingling and tremors had gotten worse, a sharp pain had shot through his head, and then he was waking up six hours later with Rachel sitting next to him, a haunted look on her face. Chandler hadn't had to ask what had happened. The look on Rachel's face, and the memory of what had happened just before, had been enough.

Rachel had been crying, he could tell. He hated that he made her cry, but he knew he couldn't help it. It wasn't his fault that he had a brain tumour. But it _was _his fault that he had tried to kill himself.

No.

Not kill. Help.

He had tried to help his friends.

Dr. Phillip's had come in soon after. Chandler hadn't even been aware that she was around; he vaguely remembered her name being mentioned once or twice, but hadn't thought that she would come see him. Of course she would, he had reprimanded himself. She had promised him another check-up. What better time to do it then when he was already in hospital?

Chandler had sat, surprisingly patient, through all of her tests. He hadn't enjoyed her shining a pen light in his eyes, but he had still sat there. She had told them that he was pretty much the same as he had been the other day, except for a few minor differences that the seizure had caused. She had then told Chandler that he would be spending an extra night there. Chandler hadn't been happy; he wanted nothing more to get out of that place, and go home. He missed his bed. He missed the apartments. He missed Monica's cooking. Hell, he even missed Joey – though he was still angry at his friend. He hadn't listened to Chandler; had acted against his wishes. A part of Chandler hated him for that, but he knew he couldn't stay mad at Joey forever. He was, after all, his best friend. But Chandler knew that, the next time Joey acted against his wishes like that, there would be no forgiving.

Dr. Phillips had given Chandler some pills to take, and told him to take it easy for the next couple of days – while he was in the hellhole they called a hospital. Chandler had been tempted to throw the pills in her face, and that had bewildered him. He wasn't the type of person that would do that; that would be so rude. But he was, after all

_crazy _

the voice in his head reminded him. He had lost it, he wasn't acting rationally. His brain was telling him to do things that he was against; telling him things that he was certain was not real. His brain was making him do things that he did not want to do –giggle, scream, open shower curtains – and Chandler had not had any choice in the matter. He had done it without having a say in the situation.

Thankfully, he had had a choice when it came to the pill throwing. His brain had told him to, and Chandler had resisted, keeping the pills in his hand. He had been proud of himself; he had stood up to his brain and won.

If only he could keep that up.

Dr. Phillips had left, and Chandler had stared down at the pills in his hand. He hadn't been listening to her talking –too busy contemplating throwing the pills – and he wasn't sure what was in the tiny little capsules. Were they meant to stop his seizures? Stop his headache? Get rid of the damn dreams? Make the brain tumour go away? Or save his friend's life?

Chandler had no idea; it could have been any of those options. That's how much he had not been paying attention. He had looked up at Rachel, searching for an answer, but she had merely smiled and handed him a paper cup, filled with water.

Chandler had shrugged, and taken the pills. If Rachel was okay with them, then he was okay with them.

He slept that night; restless but dreamless.

The next morning when he woke up, a thought occurred to him. It had been a few days since his last dream. Sure, he had seen other things, but the dreams had been absent. This thought should have pleased Chandler, but it instead left him with a feeling of unease and dread. Many people would assume that this meant the dreams were over; not Chandler. He knew that the dreams would return, stronger and fiercer this time round. Chandler was sure of it, simply because it was him he was talking about. Bad things happened to Chandler.

Many people would assume that the dreams were over, if they were in his situation. And they would most likely be right; because it would be happening to them. They had good luck. Good things happened to others.

Not Chandler.

No.

He was a bad luck charm. Rachel had tried to convince him otherwise, but he knew it was true. He was a bad luck charm. Bad things happened to both him and anyone who came near him.

He was tempted to try and kill himself

_No. Try and help his friends_

once again, knowing that them staying near him was too dangerous. But Dr. Mackenzie's words kept rushing back to him, making him reconsider. If he did try to help his friends - try to save them by hurting himself – who would be there to look after them? That thought stopped Chandler from grabbing the next plastic knife he was handed – plastic could still do a lot of damage – and slicing into his wrist once more. That thought stopped him pulling off the bandage around his wrist and tearing at the stitches that he had not seen, but knew were there. That thought stopped him from breaking out of the room, running up the long flights of stairs and leaping off the tall building.

But most of all, that thought stopped him from completely losing his mind. He still stood on the top of those damn walls, leaning precariously over the edge, but the thought of his friends made him keep his balance.

It was odd really; the one thing that had made him try to kill himself

_help his friends_

was now the one thing that was keeping him fighting for his life. Chandler had giggled at the thought, realising how ironic it was. He loved his friends; he would do anything for them. If he needed to die to help them, he would – and had tried. But now, he needed to live for them. He just hoped that Dr. Mackenzie was right; that him living was the best thing for all of them. If the good doctor was wrong, then Chandler would be quite annoyed – and his friends' life could be in danger.

Chandler prayed that Dr. Mackenzie was right.

His friends had come in early that morning, just like the morning beforehand. Chandler had noticed the shadows beneath their eyes, the constant yawning. They tried to hide their tiredness, but Chandler saw right through their façades. He hated that he was the person who made them look like that, but considered how they would look if he tried once more to help his friends – and succeeded this time. With that thought in his head, Chandler ignored their tiredness and attempted to enjoy their company.

Joey had stayed home once again, and Chandler had been glad. He secretly missed his best friend like crazy, but was still angry at him. Plus, if Joey had come, Chandler knew that he would have had to talk to him, and he wasn't sure if he was ready. Talking to Joey – forgiving Joey – was a big step; one that Chandler knew would be difficult. He had to prepare for it, had to think it through.

Breakfast had come, and it had looked slightly more appealing then yesterdays. Phoebe had still slipped him some secret junk food, and Chandler had once again been more then grateful. The breakfast may have looked slightly more appealing, but it was still a long way from what most would consider actual food.

Chandler had smirked once more at the plastic cutlery. He wasn't sure why he found them so amusing; perhaps it was the fact that he knew that if he really wanted to hurt himself once more, then plastic knife would work just as well as the knife in his bedroom had. It would take a lot longer, and would hurt a hell of a lot more, but Chandler knew that, if he wanted to, he could.

Not that he was going to.

His brain was telling him that maybe he should; maybe the good doctor had been wrong, but Chandler had once again ignored the persistent voice. He was getting better and better at doing that.

Dr. Mackenzie had arrived soon after lunch, and they had talked. Chandler had told him how the seizure had made him feel, how annoyed he was to still be in the hospital. He had told the psychiatrist that he was not going to hurt himself again; that he was going to listen to the doctor and protect his friends in a way that involved him _not _dying.

He had told Dr. Mackenzie that he had ignored the voice in his head, and listened to what his heart told him. He knew that it sounded cliché, but the doctor seemed both satisfied and impressed with his answers.

Chandler had been relieved when Dr. Mackenzie had told him that he would be going home tomorrow; just as long as the hospital gave him the all clear. The doctor had been adamant that Chandler see him every other day and Chandler had grudgingly agreed. He didn't want to do that, but he knew that the alternative was a prolonged stay in this hellhole called a hospital. Or worse, at some mental asylum.

Chandler decided that he would much prefer to go home, and that is why he agreed.

The rest of the day passed quickly; his friends once more entertaining him with their memories and life experiences. Once again, they tried to top each other for most outrageous story, although no one could beat Phoebe. She was, after all, the Queen of Weird.

His friends had stayed well into the night, reluctantly leaving him at the nurse's persistence. They had promised to come back in the morning; to get him ready to come home with them. Chandler had grinned at the thought of going home, and his grin had grown when Rachel had gently kissed him goodbye. He couldn't wait to get home; couldn't wait to crawl into bed – maybe with Rachel – and sleep between his own sheets. He was still terrified of sleeping - the fear of having dreams still haunting him – but that fear had been pushed into the corner of his mind. The same corner where he pushed his insecurities and his fears; his secret loves and secret loathes. That corner had been useful over the years, and now it had another use.

With the fear of his dreams hidden, Chandler now began to worry about something else. He would be going home tomorrow; wanting to sleep in his bed. To do that, he would have to talk to Joey. It _was _a big step, and Chandler still had not had any time to deal with it. He would have to tomorrow.

Chandler had shrugged off the thought of Joey, letting sleep wash over him. He could worry about everything tomorrow.

He was going home. That was all that mattered.

He was going home.

* * *

"I'm okay Rach," Chandler said once more as they slowly walked up the stairs.

"Okay, I was just checking," Rachel said yet again, curling her slender finger's around Chandler's hand. Chandler smiled at her, squeezing her hand gently.

"You've been 'just checking' every two minutes for the last hour and a half," he reminded her. Rachel blushed.

"She's just looking out for you Chan…in the neediest way possible," Ross said from behind them, teasing Rachel gently.

"Have you got all your pills?" Monica questioned suddenly, searching through Chandler's bag. He rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to answer.

"Yes Mon, he has all his pills. Just like last time you asked. Or the time before. Or the time before that," Phoebe cut in, winking at Chandler as she wrapped her hand around his arm.

"I was just checking," Monica muttered, echoing Rachel's earlier comment. Chandler smiled once more, feeling happier then he had in days. He was out.

He was out of that damn hellhole, and nearly at his front door. The doctor's had kept him in the hospital later then he had wanted; only discharging him at around 4:00. Apparently they had wanted to run a few tests before they let him go, and had given him a full physical after the tests. Chandler had not enjoyed either of those, and he had never been so glad to climb into a cab in his life. He had watched the hospital as they drove away, delighted to leave, but annoyed by the fact that he would soon have to return. He did, after all, have a brain tumour. Add that to his dreams, seizures and wrist slicing, and he was sure that he would be back there in no time. Not for the wrist slicing though. He didn't intend to do that, not anymore.

Chandler loved his friends deeply, and had always been very patient with them. He was glad for that, because had he been a different man, he was sure he would have jumped out the cab and ran away from them as quickly as possible.

They were in overprotective mode; Phoebe being the only normal one. Monica had been checking to make sure he had everything with him, while Rachel had been checking if he was alright every five seconds. Ross had been teasing them both the entire time, but he had also been giving Chandler frequent glances, making sure he was, in fact, fine. When they had gotten out of the cab, Ross had placed a protective hand on Chandler's back, and Chandler had seen the way he had looked at anyone who came near them. His friends were in overprotective mode, and Chandler was happy they cared so much. But, he knew that if he had to put up with it for another hour, he really would run away from them. He loved his friends, but there was only so much he could take.

Thankfully, they reached the hallway outside their apartments and Chandler stared at his doorway longingly, albeit a bit apprehensively. Joey was behind that door. He would have to face him. He wasn't sure if he was ready for that.

"Well, Chandler, why don't you go and have a shower and clean up a bit? Get that hospital smell off of you?" Rachel suggested with a twinkle in her eye. Chandler glanced at her for a moment, then looked over at his other three friends. They were all nodding, and Chandler suddenly realised. They were trying to make him talk to Joey. He sighed.

"Okay," he reluctantly agreed. Rachel grinned, and gently pushed him towards the door to apartment 19.

"Okay! Come over when you're done, and I'm sure dinner will be ready. Right Mon?"

"Right," Monica confirmed Rachel's assumption. Chandler smiled slightly, then rested his hand on the doorknob. He took a deep breath and opened the door.

"Hey," Joey said quietly as Chandler shut the door behind him. The Italian was sitting at the counter, eating a bowl of cereal. Chandler glanced at the time, frowning. Cereal, at this hour? He supposed it was Joey he was talking about.

"Hey," Chandler said in return, his left hand reaching up to nervously play with Rachel's good luck charm, which still lay around his neck. He glanced down at his bandaged wrist and flushed, quickly jamming his hand into his pocket. He wasn't sure why he suddenly felt so embarrassed about it; perhaps because it was Joey.

"How are you feeling?" Joey asked, concern shining in his dark eyes.

"I'm okay…I'm feeling a lot better then I did," Chandler answered, glancing over Joey's shoulder, at his bedroom. His bed. His clothes. He couldn't wait.

"That's good…" Joey trailed off, looking uncomfortable. Chandler cleared his throat, glancing once more at his bedroom.

"I-I was just gonna take a shower, and then go over to the girl's apartment for dinner. Care to join me?"

"For the dinner, or the shower?" Joey joked, although he still looked uncomfortable. Chandler laughed awkwardly.

"Dinner. I shower alone."

"Okay," Joey agreed. Chandler nodded.

"Okay…I'll just go have my shower."

"Okay," Joey said once more. Chandler nodded, then walked past his friend. That went well, he thought sarcastically as he approached his closed bedroom door. You might as well have just brushed him off altogether.

At least he is coming to dinner, Chandler countered his thoughts, his hand reaching for the doorknob. That's a start, don't you think? I can talk to him later. We have-

Chandler froze, a sudden sense of dread washing over him. He couldn't go in there. How could he have thought that he could go in there?

There would be blood, and the knife, and the memories. He had tried to kill himself in there. The blood…he couldn't face the blood. He couldn't face the knife. And he most certainly could not face the memories. He couldn't, wouldn't, mustn't.

Chandler pulled his hand back, as if burnt. What had he been thinking? That he could walk back in there, and everything would be fine? That everything would be back the way it was; no blood, no knife, no memories. The sheet would be soaked with his blood, the carpet too. Tear's sprung to his eyes, and Chandler wanted to wipe them away

_He couldn't, wouldn't, mustn't_

but he found that his hand was frozen, mere centremetres from the handle. He could hear Joey's panicked yells, his own hysterical sobs, and his angry words. He had screamed at Joey; saying horrible, horrible things. And Phoebe had been there. She had already witnessed her mother's suicide, and now she had seen that? Chandler's frozen hand started to shake, and he felt the hot tears stream down his cheeks.

The blood and the knife would still be in there, he was sure of it. He couldn't face that. He couldn't, wouldn't, mustn-

"Joey?" Chandler heard a voice whimper, and after a moment he realised it was him. "J-Joey!" Hands grabbed him, pulling him away from the door.

"Chan? What's wrong?" Joey asked, his voice urgent. He had been sitting with his back to Chandler, and had grown concerned when he had not heard the door opening. Chandler had whimpered his name just as he was turning around to investigate.

"Chan! What is it?" he asked again, his voice louder this time. Chandler was staring at the closed door with a look of horror on his face, his lip trembling violently.

"I-I…I can't," Chandler whispered, his voice thick with tears. Joey frowned, glancing at the door once more. Why couldn't Chandler go in there? "The…the b-blood, and the knife…I can't!" All at once, Joey understood, and he wrapped his arm around his best friend's shoulder.

"It's okay Chan," he soothed. "We cleaned everything up. Me and Ross did, the other day. It's all back to normal. The blood and the knife are long gone." Chandler shook his head and Joey tightened his grip as Chandler's stance wavered. Joey lowered his friend to the ground, sitting down next to him.

"T-The memory isn't…I can hear you…you were so scared," Chandler sobbed, leaning into Joey's embrace. "I was screaming at you! And at the hospital! I'm so sorry Joey…god I am so sorry!"

"It's okay," Joey whispered, stroking Chandler's hair. "I'm not angry with you. I'm just glad that you are okay."

"But I'm not," Chandler confessed tearfully, shaking his head. "I thought I was…but I'm not! God, Joey, what am I going to do?"

"I don't know Chandler," Joey admitted. Chandler nodded, burying his head into his friend's neck.

"I'm such a mess," he murmured. "Lie to me?"

"It's gonna be okay," Joey whispered after a painful beat. He felt Chandler's body relax slightly and it killed him. He knew that it wasn't going to be okay.

But still, he lied.


	26. Chapter 26

Woohoo! Now that I am over my small bout of writer's block, I am on a role once more! This chapter was NOT meant to happen, but screw it...it did! I didnt want to get into the BIG stuff so quickly...i like writing this story so much, that I dont want it to end hehe. Please read and Review and I will try to update as soon as possible! Toodles!

I do not own Friends/characters/actors, although I wouldnt mind being in Rachel's position in this story!

* * *

Joey glanced up as Chandler exited the bathroom, clad only in a pair of pants. His skin was still slightly damp from the shower he had just taken. Joey eyed Chandler, worry overtaking him once more. He hadn't realised just how much weight Chandler had dropped in the last couple of weeks. Joey chewed his lip, glancing from Chandler's too slender hips to his slightly protruding ribs. It was not a healthy look. Joey made a mental note to get his friend to eat more; the majority of what Chandler had eaten recently had been vomited back up. Joey sighed, and then stood up.

"Feel better now?" he asked brightly; too brightly. Chandler nodded, looking down at his wrist. Joey followed his glance and frowned. The bandage was soaked through and was coming off. "We better change that, huh?"

"There are bandages in the bag near the door," Chandler whispered, looking slightly dazed. After his most recent breakdown, Joey had given his friend one of his happy pills from the aforementioned bag by the door. He wasn't sure what it was, but it had seemed to help a little bit.

"Yeah, I know, I saw them before," Joey said softly, walking over to the bag. "Sit down." He rummaged through the bag, grabbing the bandages. "You know, we probably don't even have to change the bandages. I mean, the bleeding has stopped, right?" Chandler said nothing, so Joey sighed, walking over to his friend. "Or we could put another bandage on."

"Yeah," Chandler murmured. Joey smiled grimly, sitting down next to his friend. He reached over and took Chandler's arm, pulling it closer to his own body. Chandler flinched slightly, a nervous expression covering his face. Joey smiled once more. He knew why Chandler was nervous. Joey hadn't seen his wrist since it had been slit. Hell, he wasn't even sure if _Chandler_ had seen his own wrist since then. It was a nerve-wracking experience, Joey was sure.

"It's okay," he said softly. "We're going to have to see it sooner or later. Might as well get it over with now, huh?" Chandler swallowed and nodded. Joey grinned, and then slowly grasped the sodden bandage, careful not to jar his own injured hand. The cut was healing, albeit slowly. He started to unravel it, unconsciously holding his breath as he did so. He seemed calm about the whole thing, but underneath it all, Joey was still terrified. He didn't want to see Chandler's wrist, anymore then Chandler wanted to see it. Seeing the wrist would only bring back memories; memories that both of them had unsuccessfully tried to forget. Joey bit his lip as he finished unravelling the bandage.

It didn't look that bad. It didn't look that good, either, but it really didn't look that bad. The wound had been stitched together nicely, Joey noticed. The cut was red and angry, and the bruising around the wound was pretty dark, but Joey knew that it could have looked a lot worse. He had seen it look a lot worse. Joey stiffened at the thought, picturing blood pouring out of Chandler's wrist once more. He shook his head quickly, and the image disappeared.

"Joey," Chandler whispered. Joey looked up at his friend, a fake smile instantly covering his face.

"It doesn't look that bad," Joey said brightly. Chandler nodded, swallowing once more.

"I-I don't think I want to bandage it up again," he said softly. Joey's eyebrows rose.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm going to have to uncover it sooner or later. Might as well get it over with now," Chandler said with a slight smile on his face. Joey watched his face for a moment, still unsure. "Really Joe. It will be fine. Like you said, it doesn't look that bad." Joey noticed the slight trembling in Chandler's voice, and wondered if his friend was trying to force himself into doing this. "And…it feels much better uncovered."

"You're sure?" Joey asked once more. Chandler hesitated, and then nodded.

"Yeah…can you get me a shirt please?"

"Sure buddy." Joey patted his friend's shoulder then got up, making his way over to Chandler's bedroom door. He hesitated before opening it. Chandler wasn't the only one who had difficulty entering the room. It had taken Joey four tries before he could go in, and that had only been because Ross was there. Joey knew that if he had been on his own, the room never would have gotten clean. He took a deep breath, the memory hitting him full force.

The blood had been everywhere. Joey hadn't really noticed before; too worried about Chandler's paling face. The blood had been everywhere. Joey had nearly passed out at the sight. That blood had come from Chandler.

"Oh my god," Ross had moaned, his hands trembling at his sides; his stomach rolling. He hadn't seen the room before, hadn't seen the blood.

"Yeah," Joey had whispered, slowly stepping into the room. He had reached over and picked up the knife, holding it as if it was cursed. A part of Joey believed that it was. That knife, that small piece of metal, had caused so much pain. Joey had stared at the blood stained knife for a moment, then threw it into the garbage bag he had been holding. He hadn't looked at the knife again. He hadn't wanted to.

Ross and Joey had cleaned in silence, avoiding each other's glances as if they were the plague. They had left the room as quickly as possible, and had not spoken about it since. It was just too hard.

"Joey?" Chandler's voice pulled Joey from his thoughts. He jumped, then turned around to smile sheepishly at his friend.

"I'll be just a moment," he said softly, then opened the door and quickly slipped inside. He knew that Chandler had seen the look of fear on his face. He didn't want his friend to know that he was also afraid. One of them had to be strong, and Chandler certainly wasn't in any condition to be that person. Joey deftly stepped over the spot on the floor where he had held Chandler. The blood was gone, but Joey still imagined it was there. He pushed that thought out of his mind and grabbed the first shirt he saw. He turned to walk out, but then stopped and looked at the shirt. Short sleeved. He considered it for a moment, then turned around and grabbed a long sleeved jersey. Chandler may have been ready to leave the bandage off, but Joey knew that he sure as hell was not ready to leave his wrist uncovered completely. He stepped back over the spot on the floor, and then quickly left the room, shutting the door firmly behind him.

That was one room he would be glad never to go back into, he thought as he walked over to his friend. He did not ever want to go back in there. But he knew that he would.

For Chandler, he would.

* * *

Rachel sat there, studying Chandler carefully. He was smiling at something Monica had said. Rachel hadn't been paying attention, but she was pretty sure Monica had said something about the bar they had used to go to. Before Rachel was around. 

"You remember that Rach?" Monica asked, still laughing.

"What?" Rachel said, smiling sheepishly. She had no idea what Monica was asking her.

"When you rejected Chandler at the bar that time," Monica explained. Rachel flushed, glancing at Chandler. He was smiling at her.

"Yeah…I must have been really stupid back then," she said grinning. Chandler grinned back, unconsciously pulling his left sleeve down. Rachel frowned, noticing his action. He had been doing that all night. She wasn't sure whether she was happy or upset that he had left his wrist unbandaged. It was a big step, sure, but it was a step that Rachel wasn't sure he was ready to take.

"Or incredibly smart," Chandler remarked. Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, right, because Barry is _so _much better then you," she said sarcastically. Chandler smiled.

"You thought so at the time," he commented. Rachel hit his arm playfully.

"Not in her daydreams, she didn't," Monica piped up, grinning deviously. Rachel looked at her best friend in shock. She couldn't believe Monica was bringing that up.

"What's she talking about, Rach?" Phoebe urged. Rachel flushed once more, and then proceeded to tell everybody about her daydream that night. How she had missed the turnoff because she had been fantasising about kissing Chandler.

"Well, there's something I never knew," Ross said smiling.

"Yeah," Chandler agreed, smirking. Rachel smiled back at him. She loved seeing him smile like that. It _almost _reached his eyes. Whatever happy pill Joey had given him seemed to have worked. But then, Chandler had been hot and cold since the incident. One minute he would be smiling, the next minute he would be frowning. Or crying. Or yelling…at Joey.

Rachel glanced at Joey, who had been sitting quietly next to his best friend, playing with his bandaged hand. The two seemed to have worked out their differences, but Rachel knew that something was still bothering him. Joey smiled, noticing her looking at him. She smiled back, then shifted her glance back to Chandler. He was yawning. Rachel checked her watch. It was only 9:30, but then, it had been a long day.

Chandler had taken a lot longer to come over then she had anticipated, but she should have expected it would take a while. Joey and Chandler had things to talk about. She had been ecstatic when Joey had followed Chandler, placing a hand on his friend's back as they walked in the door. Everything was okay, she had thought.

Joey had pulled her aside as Monica fussed over Chandler. He had explained what had happened; how Chandler had freaked out. He had told Rachel about the pill, and how Chandler had left the bandage off. Rachel had nodded, glancing at Chandler. Her gaze had instantly gone to his wrist, which was covered by his black jersey. She had quickly looked away, feeling somewhat guilty for looking. She hadn't seen anything, but she still felt guilty. Chandler had smiled at her, and walked over. She had grasped his hand and led him to the couch, where it had been her turn to fuss over him. Rachel was sure that Chandler was most likely sick of them fretting, but he said nothing. She found herself constantly glancing at his covered wrist, and it had been then that she had noticed his new unconscious habit. Rachel wasn't sure if she was glad or annoyed that he kept his wrist covered. She wanted to see, but she didn't. It was a bit like a car accident; you want to look away, but you can't. This was almost the same, except Rachel had not yet seen the damage.

Monica had served lasagne again, hoping that Chandler would eat more then he had last time; when he had first come home from the hospital. He had eaten more then last time, but not much more. The drugs and the situation hadn't done much for his appetite. Monica had smiled, understanding once again. She hadn't expected him to eat too much. She had hoped, yes, but not expected. Rachel had seen the apologetic look on Chandler's face, and knew that he felt terrible. He loved Monica's cooking, and he loved Monica. He hated disappointing her in anyway.

"Tired?" Phoebe asked, beating Rachel to the punch. She was put out, but only slightly.

"What makes you say that?" Chandler asked, and then yawned again. Rachel smiled.

"Okay, I think its bed time for you, mister," she said sternly.

"It's only 9:30," Chandler protested.

"I know, but it has been a long day; long couple of days actually. Mix that with your medication, and…" she trailed off, feeling no need to explain herself further.

"Okay," Chandler agreed, albeit unwillingly. Rachel smiled once more, and gently pulled him to his feet. Her hand pushed his sleeve back a bit, and Rachel found herself automatically looking away. She had no idea why. Chandler blushed slightly, pulling his sleeve back down. Rachel gave him an apologetic glance, which he countered with a small smile.

"I think I'll head off as well," Joey decided, also standing.

"I'll walk you guys over," Rachel said softly. Chandler nodded, and they headed towards the door.

"See you tomorrow?" Phoebe asked, looking hopeful.

"Of course," Chandler exclaimed, looking slightly insulted. Phoebe smiled, and gave him a small hug. "See you guys."

There was a chorus of goodbyes as the three left the apartment.

"Where are you going to sleep tonight?" Joey asked Chandler once they entered apartment 19. Rachel looked at them curiously. "You wanna sleep in my room?" Rachel's curiosity turned into surprise. Why would Chandler be sleeping with Joey?

"Where would you sleep then?" Chandler asked softly.

"On the couch or…in your room…I guess." Rachel caught the look of apprehension on both Joey and Chandler's face at the mention of Chandler's bedroom and suddenly understood. Chandler had freaked out before about going in there. Of course he wouldn't be sleeping in there. Joey seemed to be scared of the room as well.

"Are you sure?" Chandler asked, looking at Joey.

"Of course! The couch is comfortable; you know that," Joey exclaimed. Chandler nodded.

"Thanks man," he said softly.

"Don't mention it."

Rachel thought of bringing up the option of Chandler sleeping in _her _bed, but decided against that. It didn't seem like the right time to suggest that.

"Do you want me to get you a change of clothes?" she said instead, glancing at Chandler's closed door. It was weird how one room could evoke such fear from people, but it did. She felt slightly odd at the thought of going in there, and she hadn't even seen what had happened in that room.

_Only seen the after-effects_

"That would be great," Chandler murmured, and Joey looked relieved that he wouldn't be the one going in there. Rachel rubbed Chandler's arm, then walked across the room, and slowly entered his bedroom. She glanced at the floor, a feeling of dread sweeping over her. There had been a lot of blood. Phoebe had told her that. She glanced at the fresh sheets, sitting there waiting to be lain under. Not tonight, she thought. There had been blood there too; not on those sheets, but the other ones.

Rachel shook her head, pushing those thoughts out of her mind. She walked over and found a change of clothes, then quickly left the room.

She hadn't seen what had happened in that room, but it still scared the hell out of her.

Chandler was just leaving the bathroom, after going to the toilet and brushing his teeth. He smiled gratefully at Rachel as he took the clothes from her hand. She watched him walk into Joey's room and shut the door.

"Do you think he is gonna be okay?" Rachel turned to face Joey, who was making the couch more comfortable.

"I don't know Joe," she whispered. "I want him to be; want to believe he will be, but Jesus! How could he be okay after all this?"

"I don't know," Joey said honestly, glancing at his closed door. "I really don't."

The door opened then, and Chandler walked out in his boxers and yet another long sleeved shirt.

"Who's gonna come tuck me in?" he joked, his smile not reaching his eyes.

"I will," Rachel said, walking over. Joey smiled from his position on the couch.

"Night Chan," he called.

"Night Joe."

Rachel closed the door behind them, then watched as Chandler climbed into bed. She walked forward and sat on the edge of the mattress.

"You know…" she began, then stopped, arguing with herself.

"What?" Rachel sighed, moving closer to him. Chandler took her hand in his right one, smiling at her.

"I was going to suggest that you could sleep in my bed before…you know, when Joey asked where you were going to sleep," she admitted.

"That doesn't surprise me," Chandler said softly after a beat.

"Really?" Rachel exclaimed.

"Yeah…I saw the look on your face, you were considering it."

"You think you know me so well," Rachel said playfully. Chandler grinned.

"I _do _know you so well."

"I know." Rachel paused, staring at their entwined hands thoughtfully. "Are you okay?"

"No," Chandler responded. "I'm trying to be, but I'm not." Rachel nodded.

"I thought you would say that; I didn't want you to, but I thought you would."

"Yeah." Chandler bit his lip, glancing up at the roof. "I-I just don't know what to do anymore Rach, you know?"

"No," Rachel murmured. "I have no idea what you are going through. I wish I did."

"I don't," Chandler said softly, looking at her once more. "I would hate to see you go through this."

"Yeah, well I hate seeing you go through this," she whispered, squeezing his hand gently. Chandler smiled grimly, then pulled her closer.

"Stay with me for a while?" he pleaded. Rachel nodded, then pulled back the covers and climbed in next to him. Chandler sighed, rubbing her hand with his own.

"Are you scared?" Rachel whispered once more.

"Terrified," he answered softly. She nodded once more.

"What are you scared of?"

"Everything," he admitted. Rachel glanced up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "I'm scared of dying, but in a way, I'm also scared of living. I-I hate having this _thing _in my head, and I'm terrified of it. I keep wondering when my next seizure will be, or whether I am going to be paralysed, or if I'm going to die, and how, and when. I'm scared of the dreams, and I'm scared because I haven't had one for a while. I don't know what that means. I'm scared because I'm hurting you guys, and I'm scared because maybe me being here is hurting you guys. I-I'm so afraid that you are going to wind up dead somewhere, or that I am going to dream it. I'm scared because I tried to hurt myself…I don't want to do it again, but I wonder if I really have any say in the matter. And most of all, I'm scared that I've lost my mind."

"That's a lot of things to be scared of," Rachel said after a moment's silence. Chandler nodded.

"There are a lot of other things too, but…I don't want to go into them," he whispered, a tear trickling down his cheek. He wiped at it with his left hand. "Not going to cry."

"You can cry Chandler," Rachel murmured. Chandler shook his head.

"I have been crying so much these last couple of weeks; it's like watching Gwyneth Paltrow's Oscar speech on replay." Rachel giggled at the comparison.

"Yeah, but you have a reason," she countered.

"So did Gwyneth…she had just won an Oscar." Rachel laughed again, then watched at Chandler wiped away more tears, muttering his mantra. She reached up, and pulled his hand away.

"But still…your reason is better then hers," she insisted as he protested. Chandler sighed, letting his hand rest against the bed covers. He watched as Rachel glanced at his hand, an odd look on her face.

"What?" he asked after a moment. Rachel blushed, looking up at him.

"Nothing," she murmured.

"What were you thinking?" he persisted. Rachel sighed.

"Y-You've seen it..." she whispered, glancing at his wrist. Chandler nodded, frowning. Rachel smiled grimly, then reached down and gripped his sleeve.

"What are you doing?" he asked in surprise, instantly tensing up. Rachel looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Please?" she pleaded, sounding so much like he had on previous occasions. Chandler swallowed, and nodded. Rachel smiled again, then slowly pulled his sleeve up.

She stared down at his wrist in part horror, part awe. Tear's sprung to her eyes. How such a small cut could do so much damage was somewhat amazing to her. She ran her finger down the slit, feeling the stiches underneath her skin. Chandler watched wordlessly as she continued to stroke the wound, her touch tender and gentle.

"Please don't ever do this again baby," Rachel whispered after a moment. Chandler nodded.

"I-I wont," he promised, but something in the back of his mind told him that he might have been lying. He ignored the voice.

"Good…I can't lose you," Rachel continued, her voice thick with unshed tears, her finger still caressing the stitches.

"I know," Chandler said softly. Rachel glanced at him briefly, then looked back down at his wrist. She pulled her finger back, then gently enclosed her hand around his. Chandler watched silently as she lifted his hand up, and pressed her lips against the wound. She glanced up at him once more, her eyes wide and childlike. Chandler watched as she smiled, then kissed his wrist once more.

"I can't lose you," Rachel whimpered again, her voice shaking. Chandler bit his lip, and pulled her close.

"I know baby," he whispered, pressing his lips against her clothed shoulder. Rachel looked up and kissed him, gripping his body with desperation. Chandler pulled away, and stared deep into her eyes. She smiled, running her hand down his cheek.

"Are you sure?" Chandler asked softly, his earlier tiredness forgotten.

"Only if you're sure," she murmured. Chandler hesitated, then nodded.

"I'm sure...are you sure?" Rachel grinned.

"I need you," she whispered. Chandler smiled, and kissed her once more. He understood.

He needed her too.


	27. Chapter 27

Jeez! This chapter took a bit longer then i thought it would, and turns out...it wasnt even the chapter i was going to write! I was going to do something completely different..but that has been pushed back to the next chapter haha.

oh and lupinsmoon...shhh! You caught me out! Chapter 12 was very rushed, but you werent meant to notice! I was trying to finish it quickly, so i could post it hehe shh! Thank you for your reviews though, and it seems i have some competition on the Matt front? Interesting! Please keep reading, and thank ya'all for the reviews! I promise to update very soon! Love you all, but not as much as i love Matt and Chandler! SQUEE! Please read and review!

I dont own friends/characters/actors, but i am ready and willing to mud wrestle with lupinsmoon over who gets to keep Matt Perry...bring it on!...please keep reading.

* * *

Rachel's eyes flew open.

Shit.

The noise grew louder, painfully invading her eardrums.

"Chandler?" she yelled, grabbing his flailing arms and trying to hold him down.

"No!" Chandler screamed, breaking the hold. Rachel instinctively shrunk back, trying to avoid his arms. "No! Please!"

"Chandler, wake up!" Rachel pleaded, grabbing him once more. She gave him a hard shake, then jumped as the door flew open. Rachel found herself unconsciously pulling up the sheets, covering her naked body as Joey came in; flicking the light on.

"Chandler!" Joey yelled, grabbing his best friend. "Damnit Chandler! Wake up!"

"No!" An inhuman groan – almost a gurgle – left Chandler's lips and he arched his back, his face screwing up in pain. Rachel moved forward, the sheet dropping; forgotten. She didn't care if Joey saw her naked. There were more important things to deal with at that moment. Besides, Joey wasn't even looking at her.

"Chandler," she whimpered, shaking him once more. "Chandler, wake up baby, wake up!"

Chandler's body dropped back to the bed and his eyes snapped open. He stared up at the ceiling, unblinking and unmoving, except for his panicked breathing. Rachel moved into his line of sight, stroking his face tenderly.

"Sarah?" she asked, her voice hopeful. She was desperate for the dream to have been about Sarah; she didn't think that Chandler could cope with a new dream; a new murder. Thankfully, Chandler nodded, still staring blankly up at her as he gasped for breath. Rachel sighed, glancing up at Joey. He looked back at her, his face tight with worry. Rachel smiled grimly then looked back down at Chandler, pulling the sheets back up around her. Chandler's nose was bleeding, she noticed. Of course it was bleeding, she berated herself. When was the last time it _hadn't _bled after a dream? Rachel glanced over at her pants, lying in a heap on the floor. She had a tissue in the pocket, but she wasn't sure if she wanted to go over and get it. Not in front of Joey. She debated the issue for a moment, and finally decided to go and get it. Who cares if Joey saw her naked? He had seen half the female population naked. Plus, he had most likely taken a subconscious look before, when she had let the sheet drop. Rachel started to get up, to go and get her pants, but it turned out she didn't have to.

"Here," Joey murmured, pulling a tissue from the drawer next to the bed. He pressed it up against Chandler's nose, and Rachel breathed a sigh of relief, then frowned. Why the hell was she feeling relief? Sure, she hadn't had to get out of bed, but Chandler was still in pain. She glanced at her lover, watching as his breathing – his gasping – started to slow slightly.

"You okay sweetie?" she whispered. Chandler bit his lip, turning to face her. Rachel smiled sweetly at him, hoping that he took comfort from it.

"It was worse this time," he said, his voice so soft that Joey and Rachel had to lean closer to hear. "She was in so much pain…I _felt _her die! She died!" Chandler looked away from Rachel, tears springing to his eyes. "Damnit," he muttered. "I am not Gwyneth Paltrow."

Joey shot a questioning look at Rachel, who merely shrugged. She would explain Chandler's comment to him later.

"I'm not going to cry. I cant, I won't," Chandler whispered, wiping at his eyes.

"Its okay honey," Rachel said soothingly. "You have a reason to cry; Gwyneth didn't." Chandler let out a short, hollow laugh, looking at Rachel once more. She smiled again, running her hand down his cheek and wiping away the tears.

"She won the Oscar," Chandler reminded her.

"Yeah, but she didn't have crazy dreams," Rachel countered. "Or a brain tumour." Chandler nodded.

"Or try to kill herself," he murmured. Rachel glanced once more at Joey, a pained look on her face.

"No…she didn't try to do that," Joey said softly, pulling both his hand and the soiled tissue away. Chandler took a deep breath, sitting up slightly. He glanced down at the covers, then up at Rachel, remembering their state of undress.

"Uhh…Joe," he began. Joey smiled gently, shaking his head.

"Hey, you guys don't need to explain anything to me," he cut in. Chandler smiled back, although it was shaky at best. "I'm just glad you finally got on with it…although you do have to buy me new sheets." Chandler's small smile turned into a laugh, mixing with Rachel's.

"Thanks man," he said quietly.

"Don't mention it," Joey said smiling, then turned serious. "Are you going to be okay man?" Chandler sighed, glancing down at his hands. He looked at his wrist, and then quickly looked away.

"I-I….its just hard, you know?" he whispered. "You don't know. God, I don't even know." A giggle left his lips, and he shook his head. "Everything is just so fucked up, you know?"

"Yeah, we know," Joey murmured. "Well…we don't know, but we know it's hard."

"Yeah," Chandler said softly. "In a way, I'm glad I had another dream."

"Why do you say that?" Rachel asked gently. Chandler giggled again.

"I was going crazy…well, you know…it was worrying me that I hadn't had one for a while. I wasn't sure if they had stopped, or if…if the people…_whoever _they are, if they were waiting to spring a big one on me. You know, a horrible one of someone being tortured or something…or one of you guys. So, in a way, I'm sort of glad. That sounds weird, doesn't it?"

"No baby, it doesn't sound weird," Rachel soothed, taking his right hand in her own.

"Okay…I hate this situation…I don't want to dream anymore, but I know that if I don't, I'll always be wondering." Chandler rubbed his face with his free hand, giving his wrist an odd look.

"Do you think you can go back to sleep?" Joey asked after a moment. Chandler sighed.

"I-I don't know," he answered, looking up at Joey. "Maybe with some help. Would you be able to go get me…uh, one of my pills?"

"Sure," Joey said, patting his best friends arm. "I'll be right back."

Rachel watched him leave the room, then turned back to Chandler. He pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

"For once in my life, I don't know what to say," he said softly. Rachel smiled, rubbing his bare chest with her hand.

"That's okay, you don't always have to say something," she told him. Chandler nodded, closing his eyes. Rachel watched as they flew back open, wide with panic. She bit her lip to keep from crying. He couldn't even close his eyes without seeing Sarah. Or Nicole. Or her…lying dead in the bathtub.

"It's okay, sweetie," she whispered. Chandler nodded again, but didn't close his eyes.

"I don't know what I would do without you," he said after a beat. Rachel nodded, kissing his shoulder.

"I know baby, I know."

They lay in silence until Joey returned, pills in one hand, glass of water in the other. He helped Chandler sit up, then handed him the contents of his hands. Chandler swallowed the pills, drank the water, then set the empty glass on the counter.

"Thanks Joey," he said softly. Joey smiled.

"Don't mention it…are you going to be okay now?"

"Yeah, I got Rachel, you can go back to bed now," Chandler told him. Rachel watched as Joey nodded, noticing the flash of pain in his eyes at the mention of her name. She understood. Joey was used to being the one that comforted Chandler; the one that looked after him. Now, he wasn't needed as much as he used to be, and it hurt.

"Night," Joey murmured, patting Chandler's shoulder one last time, before turning and leaving.

"Goodnight Joey," Rachel called after him, hoping to sound as sincere as possible. She didn't want him to feel left out. Joey smiled at her, then turned off the light and closed the door. Rachel sighed, turning back to Chandler. She watched him through the darkness, saw him begin to calm down. Those pills worked fast, she thought.

"Feeling better?" she asked softly. Chandler nodded, rolling over to face her.

"Yeah," he remarked sleepily, wrapping his hand around her bare waist. Rachel smiled, moving in closer and kissing his jaw line gently. "Those pills work quickly."

"That's what I was thinking," she whispered, rubbing his arm. Chandler smiled.

"You did good before," he drawled, his voice thick with sleep. Rachel grinned.

"Just good? I've been told that I'm fantastic in bed," she informed him. He giggled.

"Well…yeah, that's true…you did better then good, you did…amazing," Chandler's voice drifted off, his eyes closing. Rachel smiled, kissing him gently.

"You were pretty damn good yourself," she muttered.

"Thanks," Chandler murmured. Rachel kissed him once more, then wrapped her arm around his body, cuddling him closely.

"Night Chandler," she whispered. He didn't answer, already asleep. "I love you." Rachel didn't have the courage to say the words while he was awake. She sighed, watching him sleep. She hoped the pills did their trick.

He needed a good night's sleep.

"So, how was it?" Rachel shook her head, lost in her own thoughts.

"Huh?" she muttered. Monica smiled patiently.

"How was it?" she repeated, her voice low.

"How was what?" Rachel asked, unsure as to what her best friend was asking her.

"Joey said you and Chandler…you know!" Monica said, grinning. Rachel stared at her friend, open mouthed.

"Monica! I am not going to share the details with you!" she hissed.

"Why not? You do when it comes to every other guy!"

"I didn't when it came to Ross!" Rachel said defensively.

"Yes…thank god! But, come on…please?" Monica pouted, and Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Mon," she groaned.

"Come on, what makes Chandler so different to any other guy you've been with?" Monica asked, stubbornly not backing down.

"Because it's Chandler!"

"I would tell you if I was in your situation," Monica insisted.

"No you wouldn't!"

"Yes, I would! Now come on!" Rachel sighed. Monica was not going to back down. She was determined.

"It was…it was different," she murmured. Monica frowned.

"Bad different?" she whispered.

"No! No, definitely not! It was good different! Very, very good different!" Rachel exclaimed, and then lowered her voice. "It was…I don't know…it just felt right, you know?" Monica nodded, a sad smile spreading across her face.

"I can imagine…that was what it was like with Richard," she said softly. Rachel smiled and patted her friend's arm. "Like you just clicked."

"Exactly…and so emotional! But with everything that has been going on, it would have to be, wouldn't it? I just needed to have him as close as possible…for some reason it made me sure that he wasn't going anywhere," Rachel whispered. Monica frowned, a sudden thought entering her mind.

"Are you sure it was the right time? I mean, like you said, with everything happening. Maybe it wasn't the right time?"

"Maybe," Rachel mused, glancing across the room. Chandler was sitting at the kitchen table, Joey next to him. She smiled. "I don't know, maybe it was comfort sex…but it wasn't sex…it was making love…Jesus, I'm just babbling on here!" Rachel glanced back at Monica, an apologetic look on her face. She hoped that her friend didn't mind her talking about this. She felt awful about Monica's feelings towards Chandler, and wished that Monica had been able to choose someone who would reciprocate her feelings. Here she was, talking about sleeping with Chandler, right in front of the girl who couldn't have him because her best friend had been there. Rachel felt horrible, but she remembered that Monica was the one who had brought it up. Obviously she was trying to get over her feelings.

Rachel sighed, glancing back over at Chandler.

"It was the best I've ever had," she murmured. "It's different when you really love them….not that I didn't love Ross but…this is different."

"Yeah," Monica said softly. Rachel smiled faintly, watching as Chandler ate. She frowned as he paused, glancing down at his cutlery.

He could still do it, Chandler thought as he looked at the silverware in his hands. Monica had given him the bluntest knife possible, but he could still do it. Dr Mackenzie had been right once more.

He wanted to help his friends; help them more then anything. But a small part of him was also desperate to make the dreams stop. That small part wanted him to do it. To end it all.

He could still do it. Maybe not with this knife. There were others though. Sharper, longer, better. He was sure he would be able to find one. Of course he couldn't do it here. His friends would stop him.

Why was he even considering this? He couldn't leave his friends. Couldn't leave Joey. And most definitely couldn't leave Rachel. Couldn't, wouldn't, mustn't. Especially not after last night; not after the night they had just shared.

_Perhaps they would be better off without him though_, the small part –the part that wanted him to do it – reasoned, a little voice in the back of his mind.

_They still could be in danger. They still could die because he was around them. Dr. Mackenzie could be wrong. He could be hurting them, rather then saving them. That had been your original thought. _

_What right did a doctor, a psychiatrist, a fucking _shrink_ have? What right did he have to tell you that you were wrong? You know best, Chandler. _

_You may still be killing them by staying around._

No, Chandler thought firmly. The voice in his head was wrong. He couldn't leave his friends. Dr. Mackenzie was right. He is a trained professional. Doctor knows best, and definitely knows better then a crazy, dream having, wrist slashing, brain tumour patient.

_You know that's not true,_ the voice countered.

Shut up, Chandler growled.

_No, listen to me. You said it yourself. Dr. Mackenzie studied for a few years, got a degree, and now he thinks he knows everything. He doesn't know a damn thing about you Chandler. Not a thing. Only you know. _

No, Chandler thought, but wasn't sure if he believed himself.

_Yes. You decided to kill yourself for a reason. You had a goal. Don't let some stubborn shrink stop you. Your friends need you to do this. They need you to die Chandler. You can still do it!_

Chandler glanced from the knife to his covered wrist, his hand trembling. He could still do it. The voice could still be right. He had a goal. It had been interrupted, but he could still do it.

_Could _he still do it?

Chandler glanced once more at the knife, biting his lip in concentration. To save his friends he would, but he didn't know what to believe.

Dr. Mackenzie said that killing himself wouldn't help them. His friend's had said that as well. But didn't he know best? Didn't he know best what was going around in his own head?

At the moment, Chandler wasn't sure. His head was a mess; he was arguing with his subconsciousness, talking to a voice in his head. That voice was telling him things; things he didn't want to hear.

Chandler didn't want to die. But he wasn't sure if he had to or not. To save his friends he would, but what if they wouldn't be saved by him dying? Or what if they could _only _be saved by him dying? He had no idea. No fucking clue.

Chandler took another look at his wrist.

He could still do it.

But did he want to?

Did he have to?

A hand covered his, and Chandler watched as the knife was taken away from him. He glanced up at find Joey staring at him. He had known, Chandler realised. Joey had known what had been going through his head.

"Are you finished?" Joey asked, his voice strained. Chandler wasn't sure if he meant his breakfast or his troubling thoughts. He could see the pain in Joey's eyes. Joey didn't want him to die. He couldn't leave him. Couldn't leave any of his friends. Not after seeing the look in his best friends' eyes. Or after his promise to Rachel the night before. He couldn't leave him. He just had to ignore the voice in his head.

Dr. Mackenzie was right. He was helping his friends by staying alive. Chandler had to force himself to believe that. He couldn't die. Couldn't, wouldn't, mustn-

"Yeah…I'm done," he whispered, pulling his hand away. It was still too close to the knife. The knife that was still tempting him. It was too close, way too close. He had to get away from it, it was too temping. He had to keep it away, had to-

_You can still do it_

_Dr. Mackenzie is wrong_

"Just…please, keep that thing away from me," Chandler choked out, desperately trying to ignore the voice. Joey nodded, a troubled look on his face.

"Okay buddy," he murmured, patting Chandler on the shoulder.

Chandler watched Joey take away their plates; take away the knife. He ran a shaky hand down his face-

_You can still do it_

then glanced over at the girls. He couldn't think like that. Had to ignore the voice, had to stay positive. Today was going to be a good day. And tomorrow. And the next day. But especially today. Little steps, he reminded himself. One day at a time.

Today was going to be a good day.

It had to be.

* * *

_You can still do it Chandler_

"Shut up, shut up, shut _up!_" Chandler said in a conversational tone, his voice rising with each syllable. He hadn't been able to shut the voice up all day, which had made it difficult in him having a good day. This was the first time he had vocally told the voice to stop. It was the first time that day that he had been alone. He sighed, flushing the toilet. Something told him that the voice wasn't anything good. In fact, it most likely meant something was seriously wrong with him.

_You already knew that Sparky_

Chandler rolled his eyes. Sparky. Now his voice was giving him a pet name? He really had lost his mind.

_You think that just because you are talking to yourself that you have lost your mind? Don't make me laugh!_

_Everybody talks to themselves. What makes you fucking special?_

"You know, you have a real attitude problem," Chandler muttered, sitting down on the edge of the bath. He jumped up quickly, glaring at the bath. Rachel wasn't dead. The bath had told him otherwise.

_I have an attitude problem? You're the one snapping at your conscious_

"Jesus Christ," Chandler groaned, closing the toilet lid and sitting down. He stared at the bath-

_Empty bath, empty. Nothing in there_

shaking his head. He hated this voice. Hated that he couldn't get rid of it. He had only had it around for less then a day, and it was already pissing him off. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to have it around forever.

_That's why you should just kill yourself. Get it over and done with. You can make me stop. Make the dreams stop. Make the pain stop. You can do all that, Sparky_

"Don't call me that!" Chandler shrieked, leaping to his feet. He glanced around wildly, stopping and staring into the mirror. He looked like hell. Rings around his eyes, skin pasty, hair greasy. And when had he lost so much weight?

_Hit a nerve, did I? What, did you're dad used to call you that? Can't handle the memory of it? _

"Stop it," Chandler whispered, his anger growing. He dimly felt his hand wrap around something.

_You can make it all stop, you know._

_You know how._

_Just pick up a razor…if the girls have left any out. They think you are weak; that you can't control yourself. That's why the razors are gone. They think you're weak. Which you are. You can't even kill yourself to save your friends. Fucking pathetic. _

"Shut up, shut up, _shut up!"_ Chandler screamed, lifting his hand up. He stopped himself, and stared at his hand. He had nearly thrown a bottle of mouthwash against the wall. How would that have helped? Besides giving him a way to let his anger out. Chandler took a deep breath, and gently placed the mouthwash on the counter. He wasn't going to let this voice get the better of him; let it consume him. He wasn't going to let it control him.

_Can't even throw a bottle of mouthwash? Jesus Christ_

"I thought I told you to shut up?" Chandler whispered, his voice weak.

_You can't get rid of me Chandler. Unless…_

"Unless what?"

_You know what_

"Tell me anyway."

_Unless you kill yourself_

"Stop it," Chandler whimpered, leaning against the counter. Tears burned in his eyes. He wasn't going to cry. He couldn't, wouldn-

_Let it out Chandler. Rachel is always telling you to do that. Why don't you listen to her? She's a smart girl, y'know. And got a fine figure on her too! Pity you are killing her_

"Leave Rach out of this."

_I will if you will. You're the one who brought her up_

"No I-"

_Yes you did. Think about it Chandler. I'm you. I'm not somebody else, I'm you. Everything I'm saying is what you believe, deep down. You want to die. You have to die. If you don't, she will die. So will Joey. And Monica. And Ross. And Phoe-_

"I get the point!" Chandler yelled, banging his fist against the counter. "Jesus Christ!"

_If you get the point, then why don't you kill yourself?_

"Because you're wrong!" Chandler shrieked. "You're wrong! You are wrong! They are not going to die! I have to believe it! I have to!"

"Chandler?" Rachel's soft voice was accompanied by a knock on the closed door. "Chandler? Sweetie? Are you okay? I thought I heard you yelling."

"Yeah, I'm fine Rachel," Chandler said after a moment. He glanced at his reflection briefly, then turned away. He could almost see the voice, the _bastard _inside his head. He could almost see that bastard through his eyes.

"You sure? I'm coming in."

"No! I'm coming out!" Chandler insisted.

"O-Okay."

Chandler sighed, wiping at his cheeks. He hadn't even realised he was crying until that moment. He had felt the tears burning in his eyes, sure, but hadn't realised they had spilled over. He sighed once more, then opened the door.

"You sure you're okay? Who were you talking to?" Rachel asked worriedly as he walked out. Chandler smiled weakly.

"Myself," he said honestly. No point lying about it. Rachel knew he was crazy. She knew.

"You were yelling at yourself?" Rachel said softly. Chandler nodded.

"That surprises you?" he whispered. Rachel hesitated. "Me - crazy wrist slasher - talking to myself. You think that's surprising?"

"I-I don't know," Rachel murmured. Chandler smiled grimly.

"We have a lot to talk about; a lot to argue about," he muttered. "_Somebody _thinks that I should ignore you all, but Sparky doesn't agree." Rachel stared at Chandler, her eyes wide and tear-filled. Chandler smiled again. "Don't worry baby, Sparky's stronger then that bastard thinks." He kissed her quickly, then walked away, leaving Rachel standing by the bathroom door.

_I'm not wrong_

Chandler rolled his eyes. He had hoped the voice had left.

_I'm right. You know that. I know that. We both know that. Why can't you just face the facts? They are going to die if you stay around. You want to protect them? Listen to me. Listen to yourself, godamnit! You have to die._

"Fuck you," Chandler whispered, just as he approached the couch.

_Fuck me? Fuck you. You know I'm right. You're going to see that soon. You are weak Chandler. You'll do it. I'm sure of it. You have to. _

_To save them._

Chandler sat down next to Monica, smiling weakly at her. She grinned back, patting him on the knee.

_She's going to die. _

"Shut up," Chandler said through clenched teeth.

"What?" Monica asked, a frown covering her face.

"Nothing," Chandler said, smiling once more. Monica stared at him for a second, then smiled.

"Okay."

_She's going to die. They all are. You can still do it. There's still time. Time before-_

Before what, Chandler asked the voice wearily. He didn't want to hear the answer, but he knew he had to. The voice was, after all, apparently him. These things that the voice was saying were him. He wanted to hear the answer. He had to. But once he did, he wished he hadn't. The words chilled him to his very core. There was still time. Time before-

_Before the killing begins._


	28. Chapter 28

Helloooooooooooooooooo! Here we are, my next chapter, and prolly my fave yet!And my longest! Jeez,I am so tired after this one!But it was worth it.I like it a lot!...Thanks for the reviews guys...sorry if i upset ya, but it's gonna get worse!...please dont break my legs. Love you! But yeah, i have to say sorry, this chapter is a bit disturbing...but please read and review...we are getting pretty close to the end now! only a couple of chapters left to go! Please review!

Oh and Lupinsmoon...yeah you're prolly right. You could most likely kick my ass...I am a puny little blond girl who doesnt even reach 5'2 hehe. But I'll still try! BRING IT ON! love ya!

I do not own Friends/actors/characters, but in a disturbing way, I am enjoying bringing Chandler pain...do you think i need help?

* * *

Before the killing begins?

_Yes. Before the killing. The culling. The massacre. Its coming Chandler. But there is still time. Time before the killing begins._

What does that mean, Chandler asked.

_You know what it means Chandler. You've always known. You're just getting yourself confused._

Chandler nodded. It made sense, him getting himself confused. He didn't notice his friends' odd looks when he nodded.

_You still have some time Chandler. Time before the first one dies. But not much time. It gets less and less each time. You can stop it. You have to stop it. You have to do it. Before the killing begins. _

Chandler shivered at those words. He hated those words. He hated thinking that his friends might die.

"You cold honey?" Monica's voice broke his barriers. Chandler jumped, then looked at her. She was rubbing his arm softly, smiling at him. He nodded; Cold, sure. It was easier to say that then to tell her the truth. That the voice in his head was giving him chills. Plus, now that he thought about it, he was a bit cold. He shivered again.

"I'll go get you a blanket." Chandler looked up at Rachel's voice. He hadn't heard her come back over.

_She's been there for a while. Where do you think the mug in your hands came from?_

Chandler glanced down at his hands. A half empty mug was sitting in his hands. He couldn't remember being handed it, or drinking half of it.

_It was a while ago. Rachel gave it to you. You drank it. You were distracted though. Distracted by something._

Oh, Chandler thought as he drank the rest, and watched as Rachel walked into her bedroom. He glanced back at Monica when she touched his arm once more.

"Want to lie down?" she asked gently. Chandler hesitated, and then nodded, setting the now empty mug down. Sure, why not? Monica smiled, then pulled him down, so that his head was lying in her lap. "Better?"

"Sure," Chandler said dully, staring at the TV screen. They had been watching a movie, but he hadn't been sure what. He hadn't been paying attention. Jack Nicholson and Tom Cruise, he noticed now. What movie -

_A Few Good Men._

That's right. A Few Good Men. Chandler smiled as a blanket was placed around his body. Rachel smiled back, and then kissed his cheek. She disappeared, and Chandler sighed. He didn't want her to disappear. Didn't want any of them to disappear.

_They will. They will disappear if you don't. Not in the way that Rachel disappeared just then. You move your head and you will find her. _

_No, the 'disappear' I'm talking about is final. The only way you would be able to find them is if you dig six feet under._

I don't want to hear it, Chandler snapped to the voice. He squinted at the TV screen, desperate to watch the movie and ignore the voice.

_Maybe not, but you have to. Chandler, you must listen to me! They will die!_

No.

_Yes! They are going to die! How many times do I have to say it before you believe it? You believed it once, not too long ago. Just because others have told you different, doesn't mean that you should give up on your beliefs. That is a characteristic of a weak man, Chandler Bing. You don't want to be weak now, do you?_

What if I do? What would you say to that?

_You don't. No man wants to be weak. I know that, you know that, _everybody _knows that. So don't be weak Chandler. Kill yourself. Do it! You must! If you love your friends; love Rachel, you must!_

A tear trickled down Chandler's cheek and he pulled the blanket closer, trying to hide his face with the material. He didn't want his friends to see him crying. He wasn't supposed to be crying. He was not going to cry. He couldn't, wouldn't, mustn-

_Don't start that again. It's pathetic. You terrify your friends when you say that. Don't do it. If you want to cry, then cry. Of course, that is another weak characteristic, but who am I to judge?_

But I don't want to cry, Chandler told the voice. I hate it. I _hate _it! It makes me feel weak!

_Which you are! See, you hate feeling weak. You hate seeing your friends in pain. You hate not knowing how to protect them. There is an easy way to fix all three of those problems._

How? Tell me how.

_Chandler, I've told you time and time again. You simply must kill yourself. It will stop the tears; stop your friends' pain. Protect them. It will make your dreams stop. Your pain stop. It will stop me. It will stop everything. You will be free. You won't be weak anymore, you will be free._

But-

_No buts. You have to do it. It's the only way. It will free you; free your friends. They won't have to look after you; won't have to die._

Another tear trickled down Chandler's cheek. He was so confused.

_You weren't confused the other day. When you-_

When I what?

_When you hurt yourself…no, not hurt yourself. Helped your friends. That's how you liked putting it. It was true. You weren't hurting yourself; you were helping your friends. It was clear then, clear what you had to do. Why isn't it clear now?_

Everyone keeps talking to me; telling me different. Joey-

_Joey is an idiot. He's the one that ruined your plan. He stopped you from helping them._

He cares for me too much. He's my best friend. He doesn't want to see me hurt.

_He's a fool. He didn't stop you to save your life. He stopped you because he was selfish. And that selfishness of his has left a black mark on all of your friends._

A black mark?

_Black mark of death. They are going to die. It is mostly your fault, you know that. But it is also partly Joey's fault. He stopped you; he marked them. You have to do this Chandler. Make him realise. Make him see._

You're confusing me now. You said that I had to do this to save my friends, not teach one of them a lesson.

_You are confused for a reason Chandler. You've lost your mind._

I thought you said that I hadn't.

_When did I say that?_

You said that everybody talks to themselves, and that I wasn't special, Chandler reminded the voice.

_That's right, I said you weren't special…I said nothing about you not being crazy._

Chandler frowned. He was even more confused now.

_You are crazy Chandler. But you are lucky. Most crazy people don't know what to do. They are on their own. But you have me. I'm here to tell you what to do. You need to know. You have to do it._

I don't want to. What if you are wrong?

_I'm not wrong Chandler. You know that._

Chandler sighed, glancing up at Monica. She was watching the movie intently, and hadn't felt his head move.

_She loves you. She would do anything to help you. But her desire to help you is going to get her killed. Her, Rachel, everybody._

Chandler nodded. That got Monica's attention.

"You okay?" she asked gently. Chandler frowned.

"Yeah," he answered softly.

_Liar. You're not okay. Not yet. And neither are they. Not while you are still around. _

"You sure?" Chandler swallowed, and then nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine Mon." he lied. Monica smiled, and rubbed his hair affectionately.

"That's good sweetie," she murmured, glancing back up at the movie. Chandler closed his eyes, feeling her hand run through his hair. He wished it was Rachel's hand, but it still felt good.

Contact.

Love.

He needed that at the moment. Something to take his mind off of-

_You don't need any of that. You need death._

I don't want to talk about it. I want to watch Jack Nicholson and Tom Cruise.

_Why? You know how the movie ends. You've seen it before. Do you know how real life is going to end Chandler? Pretend it's a movie. I'm about to spoil it for you. Do you know how this movie is going to end?_

I don't like endings to be spoiled.

_Too bad. This one is. Your friends are going to die Chandler. And you are going to go crazy._

I already am crazy.

_This is a different crazy. A final crazy. You are going to end up in one of those mental asylums you hate so much; unable to communicate with the outside world. You will only be able to talk to me and Chandler?_

What?

_I'm going to make it a living hell._

Chandler shuddered. He didn't want the voice to be right. He didn't want it to be! His friends…dead? And him stuck in a loony bin? God, he didn't want it to happen.

_Then you know what you have to do. That is one scenario Chandler. A very possible one. But you are the director here. The writer. The creator. You can change the ending quite easily. You just have to rewrite one of the plot points. The movie can have a happy ending, but it just has to have a shocking scene before hand. A death scene. _Your _death scene. You can do it Chandler. You have to do it. Don't you want a happy ending? Everybody goes for the happy ending. You aren't any different to everybody else. You desire the happy ending, just like everybody else. Don't you?_

Yes, Chandler thought sadly. He had always wanted the happy endings.

_I thought so. Then let's give this movie a happy ending._

Chandler frowned. This didn't feel real. Something was missing; something that would make it feel real. He knew what it was.

I want to talk to you. Talk, not think. My voice is missing.

_Hearing your own voice will make it seem real?_

Yes. I want to talk to you.

_Go to the bathroom then._

I just went. My friends will think there is something wrong with me.

_There is something wrong with you. You're crazy remember?_

Other then that. If I go to the bathroom again, they will think there is something _else _wrong with me. I just went.

_That was an hour ago. You've lost track of time. The movie is nearly finished._

Which movie? Real life or fiction?

_Both. You've lost track of time. Distracted by something._

By something…

_Yes…now, do you want to talk to me, or not?_

I do. I have to sort this out…have to figure out what is real, and what isn't.

_You still want to talk to me? Then go. You're still distracted Chandler Bing. You get distracted too easily. You have to work on that…not that you will have to, seeing you won't be alive for much longer. _

We don't know that yet.

_Sure we do. You're just delaying the inevitable…why are you still sitting here? Why haven't you gone yet? You get distracted too easily._

You were the one chatting away to me. You're the distraction.

_Just go. Get up; sit up. Leave Monica. Leave Rachel. Leave Joey. Leave Jack and Tom. Get your ass into gear…you're still sitting._

Well, you're still talking.

_Go!_

"I want the truth!" Tom Cruise screamed as Chandler slowly sat up, pulling the blanket closer. Don't we all, he thought sardonically.

_You know the truth Chandler._

"You can't handle the truth!" Jack Nicholson screamed back. Chandler smirked. He most like couldn't either, he mused.

_You can, you just don't want to._

Chandler glanced at Rachel, who was sitting there watching the movie intently. He smiled. So beautiful.

_We don't have time for that Chandler. Yes, she is beautiful. You already knew that. Go! Get into the bathroom! You want to talk? Go!_

"Where are you going?" Monica asked as Chandler climbed to his feet. Rachel and Joey glanced away from the movie, their eyes fixating on Chandler – covered mostly by the warm blanket.

_So many questions._

"To the bathroom," Chandler said distractedly, concentrating more on the voice then on his friends.

"Again?" Rachel exclaimed, a frown covering her face.

"Yeah."

_The mug. You drank too much._

Chandler nodded. Good idea.

"Yeah, that coffee went straight through me," he lied. Rachel's frown deepened.

"You had tea."

"Right! Tea…that's what I meant. Just getting confused again." A giggle left Chandler's mouth, and he rolled his eyes. He had to stop doing that. Joey pursed his lips, watching his friend attentively.

_He's selfish._

No, he just cares about me.

_Bullshit, he's selfish. He will do whatever he wants just to please himself…he's selfish. He's a fool._

Don't be so hard on Joey. He's not a fool.

_But he is. He always has been…why are you still standing here? You're worrying them._

"Chandler?" Rachel's voice said softly. Chandler shook his head.

"Sorry, lost in my own thoughts. I'll be right back." He turned and walked towards the bathroom, not waiting for an answer.

"Okay," Joey called after him as Chandler grabbed the doorknob. He paused.

_Fool._

You want to save my friends; help them. But you are so hard on Joey. Why?

_Because he is an idiot. He is the one friend of yours that I wouldn't mind watching die._

Chandler's hand tightened on the doorknob, shaking slightly as his anger spilled over.

Don't you _dare_ ever say that again. Do you understand me?

_Perhaps. But it is true._

Say whatever you want about me, but leave my friends out of this.

_Is that your way of protecting them?_

It's the only way I can think of at the moment, Chandler snapped as he entered the bathroom. He closed the door and sighed. Finally. He could talk out loud now.

_Good._

"I have to protect them somehow," Chandler murmured, sitting once more on the toilet lid. "And that is the only way I can think of right now."

_Of course there is another way to protect them…_

"No…I don't know if that is true yet."

_But it is. You just got so angry at me over mentioning Joey's death. That definitely proves it to me._

"Proves what exactly?"

_That you don't want them to die. Not even Joey, who is to blame._

"I don't want them to die," Chandler agreed, letting the blanket fall back slightly.

_But you don't want to die either?_

"Not if it isn't going to help them."

_But it is. Chandler, just do it. They will die! You know that! You have known that for a while! The other day, when you tried to help them, you were thinking clearly; more clearly then you have ever thought. You knew what you had to do. Nothing has changed since then. There have been words, trying to convince you otherwise, but nothing has changed. You have to die._

Chandler hesitated. This was starting to make sense.

_It is, isn't it? I knew you would come around._

"I haven't come around," Chandler muttered.

_But you are starting to?_

"Perhaps." Chandler rubbed his face with his hands, and then stopped. He stared at his wrist; stared at the stitches. That had been an amazing moment, watching the blood spill out. He had felt free, knowing that soon his friends would be safe. And he would be gone. They would be safe.

_That's right. Watching that blood was amazing. You bleed well._

"Yeah," Chandler whispered.

_You want to bleed again?_

"Rachel told me not to do it again."

_Rachel is smart, she is beautiful, but she doesn't know anything about what you want. She knows how to please you; she proved that last night. But she doesn't know what you want. You want to hurt yourself again, don't you?_

Chandler let his hands drop to his lap and started to absentmindedly stroke the scar with his fingers.

"I want my friends to be safe."

_And to do that, you have to…_

"Have to die?"

_Now you're getting it. You have to die to let them live._

"You are very persuasive."

_It's a gift, what can I say? Maybe I should have become a lawyer? Well…perhaps you should have anyway. Too late now though._

"Is it?"

_Isn't it?_

"I don't know yet."

_Sure you do. Stop procrastinating. You want to save them. You want to hurt yourself. You're doing it right now._

"Wha-" Chandler let out a yelp, a sharp pain coursing through his arm –originating from his wrist.

_I told you._

Chandler looked down at his wrist – past his wrist – and watched the blood drip on the floor. He had absentmindedly scratched at the stitches; pulling some of them out. Chandler stared at the now - raw wound, his face tight with attentiveness.

_You didn't do that absentmindedly, you did it on purpose. You want to hurt yourself._

"You made me do that," Chandler whispered, watching the blood drip.

_I haven't made you do anything Chandler._

"I don't want to hurt myself."

_Then why haven't you stopped the bleeding? Called for help?_

"It isn't bleeding that bad. It won't be fatal."

_True, but you have done a bit of damage. A bandage could easily fix it, but you haven't called out yet. You want to bleed. You bleed well Chandler._

"I know, you already said that."

_And you agreed. Don't you want to bleed a bit more Chandler?_

Chandler paused, staring at his wrist. It felt good. He liked watching the blood, and knowing that he was hurt. He did want to hurt himself. Not only to save his friends, but to save himself as well. He could be free again.

_That's right Chandler. Keep thinking that._

"Are you sure you are right?" Chandler whispered.

_I am always right Chandler Bing. Always. You will be saving your friends. You will be saving yourself. You can be free Chandler, and so can they! You can still do it…are you going to do it?_

Chandler lifted his right hand to his wrist, and touched the stiches. Part of the thread was hanging out of his wound, hanging uselessly. He gripped it between his fingers and pulled.

"Fuck!" Chandler grimaced, but didn't stop. It hurt like hell, but he didn't stop.

_Wait Chandler._

"What?"

_Not here. Stop. Not in here._

Chandler nodded. Not in here.

_That won't do the trick anyway. It will just slow you down._

Chandler nodded once more and pulled his hand away. Blood trickled over his skin, onto the ground. He glanced at the thread, still hanging loosely out of the wound. He stood up and looked into the mirror once more. Everything looked different now. He turned on the tap and ran his wrist underneath the water; trying to stop it bleeding. It helped; the blood almost stopping.

_Are you going to do it?_

Chandler cocked his head thoughtfully at the repeated question. To save his friends, save himself? Would it be doing that? Would him hurting himself do all that? He had thought it the other day; what had changed since then?

_Nothing. Nothing has changed Sparky._

Chandler giggled at the pet name. It was actually quite endearing.

_That's why I chose it. Are you going to do it?_

What had changed since then? Had anything changed? Was he going to do it? He still didn't know. He still didn't want to believe.

_Chandler._

"Yes?"

_Look behind you._

Chandler shook his head, feeling an overwhelming sense of dread wash over him. He didn't want to look behind him. He was scared of what he would find.

_Do it Chandler. Listen to me._

"I don't want to…you're wrong," Chandler whispered pathetically.

_No I'm not. You know I'm right. You just don't want me to be. That's why you can't turn around. You know that what you see will prove that I'm right. Am I correct?_

Chandler shook his head, but he knew that the voice was right.

_You're lying again Chandler. You can't lie to me. I'm in here too, y'know._

"I know," Chandler murmured, his hand shaking. He looked at it; looked at the barely there blood. His skin was healing already. That had always amazed him, how the human body could heal itself.

_Turn around Chandler. I want to show you something. Please turn around. You have to see this; have to see it. Then you will believe me. You will get your truth. You want the truth, don't you Chandler?_

"I do," Chandler whispered.

_I thought so. Turn around. You can get your truth._

Chandler trembled. He didn't want to do this, but he knew he had no choice. Just like the other day – when he was in here – he had no control.

_Turn around._

Chandler turned to find the shower curtain drawn.

"That was open before."

_I know. Don't question it, just pull it open._

"I-I don't want to."

_I know. But you're going to._

Chandler nodded. He was going to. He didn't want to, but he had no choice. Chandler reached out – hand trembling – and pulled the shower curtain back. He froze, a moan escaping his lips.

"Why are you showing this to me again?" he whimpered, staring at Rachel's dead, naked body. He wanted to look away, but couldn't. Just like a car accident.

_I told you. To give you your truth. You see this? Rachel is dead. It's not real. You thought it was the other day; part of you thinks it now. But it's not real. Rachel is sitting out on the couch, most likely worrying about you. She is alive now. But if you don't leave, this will become a reality. Do you realise that Chandler? Do you know now?_

Chandler nodded, still staring at Rachel's dead body. He couldn't let that happen. Couldn't, wouldn't, mustn't. This had been the deciding factor the other day. Looking at Rachel's dead body…that had pushed him towards the knife; towards his death. And once more, it was doing the same thing.

_Are you going to do it?_

"Yes," Chandler whispered, shivering. It was cold. "I have to. You're right, I have to. I have to save them. Rachel can't end up like this. I won't allow it."

_I knew you would come around. You have to act quickly though. You still have some time, but not much._

"Right."

_So, what are you going to do?_

"What do you think?"

_You can't use a knife this time. Can't slice your wrists. It takes too long; your friends would stop you. You can't let anything get in your way this time. You can't let Joey stop you…You can't slit your wrists. What does that leave you with?_

"It has to be something quick."

_A gun?_

"Where the hell would I get a gun?" Chandler snapped, shivering once more. Cold. So cold. "Where would I get a gun in the short amount of time I have?"

_I'm just trying to help! Something quick, huh?_

There was a pause; a beat. Chandler glanced once more at Rachel's dead body, then closed the shower curtain. He didn't want to look at that anymore. He picked up the blanket and wrapped it around his body again. He was cold; felt so cold. It didn't seem natural.

_I know._

"What?"

_How about-_

"The roof," Chandler finished, nodding. He pulled the blanket closer.

_Yes…good. But how? Your friends-_

"I can't let them stop me...I'll go for a walk. Pretend I want to take a walk."

_Rachel will want to join you. Or Joey. They won't let you go alone._

"Right."

_Maybe you just say that you are going next door; to get something. Then run. Up the stairs. Out the door. Onto the roof._

"Yeah. They can't follow. They can't catch me. I don't want them to see."

_Save them the pain of watching?_

"Exactly."

_You're doing the right thing Chandler. You know that right?_

"Sure."

_Good. I knew you had it in you. I knew you had a brain._

"You_ are_ my brain."

_Point taken. Now, quickly. Clean up the blood. Don't want them knowing. Clean it up quickly, then go. You have to hurry. You are running out of time Chandler._

Chandler nodded, taking a cloth. He wet it, and then wiped up the blood on the floor; on the counter. He rinsed it out systematically, then put it down.

_Good. Now hurry. Go. Don't say goodbye. That will give it away. Just go._

"Can I at least say goodbye to Rachel?"

_No! That will give it away. She will realise. She will try to stop you. They all will. You can't say goodbye Chandler._

"Right…of course not."

_There's no time Chandler. You must go. Go now. Act naturally, act normal. But go. You can't let them know what you are going to do. Natural; normal. You have to hurry. There's no time._

"No time, right," Chandler murmured. "Can I at least tell Rachel…"

_Tell Rachel what?_

"That…that I love her?"

_That is the one thing you can't do Chandler. It will hurt her too much when you leave. Best if she doesn't know, right?_

"Right…yeah, sure. She can't know…what about a note?"

_Do you really think there is time?_

"No, but I want them to know…know why I did it."

_Chandler, I think they will know._

"I want to leave a note."

_Fine, leave a fucking note. But make it quick! And you cannot, under any circumstances, tell Rachel that you love her. Not in person, not in the note. You understand?_

"Yeah…I get it. I just wish she knew."

_Maybe she does?_

"Well, if she does, then why can't I tell her?"

There was a short silence, and Chandler pulled the blanket closer.

_You just can't okay! Believe me Chandler. I told you before. I'm always right. I'm right about you having to die, and I'm right about this. Rachel cannot know. Now, you have to hurry. We've already wasted so much time! We have to hurry, especially if you want to leave a note._

"Yeah, okay…I'm going."

Chandler opened the door with his right hand, keeping his left one hidden beneath the blanket. They couldn't see; couldn't see his ruined wrist. They would want to help him; want to stop him.

"There you are! I was beginning to think you fell in," Rachel joked as he walked out. She was smiling but Chandler could see the fear in her eyes.

_She had been thinking that you had hurt yourself again._

How can I leave her?

_You just have to Chandler. It's either that or…_

I know, I know. I don't want her to die. It's just hard.

_I know._

"Yeah, sorry. I was kinda spacing in and out," Chandler lied, walking over to the couch.

"For 20 minutes?" Joey asked, raising an eyebrow. Chandler smiled.

"Yeah…lost in my own thoughts," he murmured.

"You okay?" Monica questioned, cocking her head. Chandler nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine…I'm just gonna go and grab something from our place," he told them, smiling at Joey once more. His friend frowned.

"Grab what?" Chandler opened his mouth to answer, but was at a loss for words. What could he say?

_Jacket. Coat. Sweater. Pick one._

"A sweater…it's a bit cold still," he explained. His body chose that moment to tremble, as if it was backing up his statement.

"A sweater? You mean one of yours?" Joey exclaimed.

_So many questions. We have to get out of here. Wrap it up Sparky._

"Yeah, one of mine."

"In your room?" Rachel said softly. Chandler froze. He hadn't thought of that.

"Oh…"

"You want me to go get it?" Monica asked, jumping to her feet.

_That can't happen Chandler. Quick. Make up something._

"N-No Mon, I'm fine…I'll just borrow one of Joey's. Is that alright man?" Chandler looked at his best friend-

_Selfish fool_

who nodded.

"Sure buddy…you want some company?"

_There's no time Chandler; no time._

"No, it's fine man. I'll be just a minute," Chandler said quickly. Joey frowned, but nodded.

"Okay."

"O-Okay…I'll be right back…" Chandler glanced at each of his friends, his lower lip trembling slightly.

I'm not sure if I can leave them. I love them so much. I don't know if I can go.

_You have to Chandler. Remember? Rachel in the bath. Joey's face. That will happen if you don't go._

Right.

"You sure you're okay sweetie?" Monica asked. "I-I can still come with you."

"No, it's fine! I'm fine….okay," Chandler murmured. He smiled at Monica, taking in her face. She was so beautiful. If he hadn't fallen for Rachel…well, he certainly could have loved Monica. In a different way that he loved her now. He could have _loved _her. Loved her very much. So beautiful, so sweet.

_There's no time for this Chandler._

Give me a moment! Please, I just need a moment.

Chandler's gaze moved to Joey. He would have been lost without Joey; his best friend, his…soul mate? Chandler wasn't sure if he believed in soul mates, but if they were true, Joey certainly was his. Not in the romantic sense of course, but in the emotional sense. It was possible for two guys – two friends – to be soul mates without being lovers. For two people to connect, in such a way that he and Joey had…it just screamed soul mates. They were meant to be friends. They were meant to meet, meant to know each other until their lives ended. Chandler loved Joey, so much. He would miss him.

"Chan?" Joey said gently. Chandler shook his head. "You're spacing out again."

"Sorry, I keep doing that," Chandler muttered, pulling the blanket closer again. A hand touched his shoulder and he jumped.

"You sure you're okay?" Rachel asked, staring at him with worried eyes.

_They keep asking you that. But then, I think you freaked Rachel out a bit before. You know, when you referred to yourself as Sparky._

I remember. They just worry about me.

"I'm okay Rach," Chandler reassured his lover, smiling at her. Now, if he did believe in soul mates, Rachel would certainly be his romantic one. Joey was his emotional one, but Rachel was his romantic one. It was possible to have two soul mates…right?

He didn't know, and he didn't care. He loved Rachel, he loved her so much; more then life itself. More then anything. They were meant to be together. Barry, Paulo, Ross, Janice, Kathy…they had all been speed bumps. Chandler and Rachel belonged together. And now he was going to leave her.

_You can do it Chandler…she would die if you stayed around. The great love epic that would be Chandler and Rachel…it would never happen. One way or another, it would be torn apart. This is one story that isn't going to have a happy ending. _

"I'm okay," Chandler repeated, his lip trembling once more. Rachel smiled, causing Chandler's heart to break. She was so beautiful. So damn beautiful. It physically hurt him sometimes, looking at her. Her eyes, her smile, her hair. Chandler reached out a hand – right hand, not left - and touched her hair, causing Rachel to giggle. She playfully batted at his hand, then took it in her own. Chandler smiled, watching her kiss his palm. She was so beautiful. Not just physically, but spiritually too. He loved her so much. Chandler opened his mouth to tell her that.

_You can't Chandler! Remember…it will hurt her too much._

Chandler closed his mouth, and forced his lips to curve into a smile. He gently pulled his hand out of her grasp and cupped her cheek with it.

"I'll be right back beautiful," he said, grinning a false smile. He wouldn't be back. It was killing him, but he knew he had to go. Rachel couldn't die. None of them could.

Rachel smiled back, leaning into his touch.

"I'll be waiting baby," she said softly. Chandler laughed, then leaned forward and kissed her. He kissed her like he had the night before; passionately, lovingly. He probably shouldn't have done it in front of Monica and Joey, but right now he didn't care. They would realise soon why he had kissed her like that.

"Wow…you should go get a sweater more often," Rachel murmured after he pulled away. Chandler laughed once more, then stopped to take in her appearance one last time.

_You have to go now. It doesn't take this long to say goodbye when you are just going to get a sweater. They will be getting suspicious. I think Joey already is. He has a strange look on his face._

Chandler nodded. He had to go.

"Be right back," he said grinning, staring at Rachel for a second longer, before turning and walking to the door; blanket still around his shoulders, like a cape. "See ya."

"I'll be waiting," Rachel repeated. Chandler smiled as he opened the door, and winked at her. She winked back, and Chandler closed the door.

"Shit," he whispered, leaning against the door. Tears trickled down his cheeks and he shook his head. This was too hard. "Shit."

_You can't lose it now Chandler. You have to finish this. We have to be quick now, they'll be waiting. They'll wonder why it takes so long to get a sweater. You have to move quickly. Now pull yourself together. I know it hurts, but it won't for much longer. You will be free and they will be safe. You have to go now Chandler. Quickly, if you want to write that note. Just take a few deep breaths and go._

Chandler nodded, wiping his cheeks. He took a deep breath, leaning his head against the door.

"Okay," he murmured. "Okay, let's go."

_Okay. Into the apartment we go then._

Chandler walked into Apartment 19, closing the door gently behind him. He opened a drawer, pulling a pen and paper out.

"What should I write?" he whispered.

_Something; anything! Just make it short and sweet. Don't go into details. And do not tell Rachel that you love her! Just make it short…and sweet. Tell them that you were just trying to protect them._

Chandler nodded, then started writing. He finished quickly, and placed the pen down.

"Okay, now what?"

_Now, you have to put the note somewhere. Somewhere they won't find for a little while. If they come in here and find it before…they could stop you. Where could you put it that they won't look?_

Chandler looked around, his gaze falling on his bedroom door.

_Good idea._

"I don't know if I can."

_It will be quick; in and out. You don't even have to open your eyes. Just in and out._

Chandler nodded, and walked over to the door. In and out. In and out. Don't have to look. In and out.

_You can do this Chandler._

"I can do this," Chandler whispered, resting his hand on the doorknob. He took a deep breath and opened the door.

The room looked normal; like it did before…

_Before you tried to help your friends._

Right. It looked normal. But Chandler could still hear the screams. Smell the blood. He let out a small cry.

_Calm down. Just put the note on the bed. Quickly now. Don't panic._

"Don't panic," Chandler repeated. He quickly walked over to the bed, setting the note down. He glanced around the room once more, his body trembling. His room. Even though it reeked of evil at that moment, he still loved it. He would miss it.

_Stop getting sentimental. Get out. We are running out of time._

Chandler nodded. Running out of time. There's no time. No time. He turned and walked out the room, closing the door behind him.

"Okay," he whispered, glancing at Hugsy as he walked across the room. He grinned, shaking his head. Hugsy. He would miss Joey with that penguin.

_Sentimental again Chandler. In and Out. Running out of time. Let's get that ass into gear. It's nearly time._

"Okay," Chandler repeated, approaching the door. He touched the foosball table, smiling sadly.

So many memories. Him and Joey, playing that game. Them, eating pizza at the counter. Him - on Ross's back- holding onto the foosball table as he tried to stop Ross from looking through the peephole; looking at Rachel and Mark after their date. Him and Phoebe singing 'Everlasting Love' after he had just broken up with Janice. Him convincing Monica to sleep on the couch for a little while – to let him sleep – after she became obsessed with them exercising. Him and Joey, spending all day and all night in the chairs. Joey, hugging him before he moved out. Eddie; crazy, psycho Eddie. Joey hugging him when he moved back in. Rachel and him, curled up on the couch; her singing to him softly. Rachel and him, in Joey's bed, making love. Rachel-

_Time to go Chandler._

Chandler glanced around the room one last time, tears trickling down his cheeks. So many memories.

_Let's get going. We're out of time. It hurt's, I know, but it won't for much longer. Let's go._

Chandler nodded, pulling the blanket closer. He opened the door and slowly stepped into the hallway, his body trembling again. So cold. But he wouldn't be cold for much longer. It was time to go.

_Good. Up the stairs we go. Don't run, you might trip. Just walk. Walk quickly, but carefully. Don't run._

Chandler nodded, glancing at the door to Apartment 20. They were still in there; unaware.

_Up the stairs Chandler. Up we go._

"Up we go," Chandler repeated. He tore his eyes away from the door, and started up the stairs. Not running, he might trip. He was walking quickly and carefully; blanket still around his shoulders.

_Good. You're doing good Chandler. We are nearly there. It's nearly over._

"Nearly over," Chandler whispered, as he continued to climb.

_Nearly over. How many steps have you walked up?_

"I've lost count."

_Are we nearly there?_

"I don't know…maybe."

_Okay, just keep walking._

Chandler kept walking -quickly but carefully – until he reached the door to the rooftop.

_Okay, we're here. It's nearly over Chandler. Open the door._

Chandler pulled the door open, and walked out onto the rooftop. There was no one there, which Chandler was glad for. No one to stop him.

_Good. How are you feeling?_

"Still cold," Chandler whispered, pulling the blanket closer still.

_Don't worry about that. How are you feeling otherwise?_

"Numb."

_That's not surprising. Okay, Chandler, it's time. Time to say goodbye; to let go. There will be no more pain. You, your friends; you will all be free. They won't die, and you will feel no more pain._

"No more pain," Chandler whispered, walking forward.

_No more dreams._

"No more dreams."

_Everything will be okay. Rachel won't end up in that bathtub. Everything will be fine. They'll move on, and you will be free. It's nearly over Chandler._

"Okay," Chandler murmured.

_Walk over to the ledge Chandler._

"Okay." Chandler slowly stepped forward, gripping the blanket tightly. The late afternoon sun was beating down on him. It was warm now. Chandler wasn't cold anymore; wasn't numb anymore. He was so close. It was time. It was all going to be over. His friends would be safe and he would be free. It was warm now. He was alive; for the last few moments of his life, he was alive. He could feel everything. He was alive.

Chandler stepped up onto the ledge, glancing down at the street below. It was so far.

_It is far Chandler. But you won't feel anything. It will only last for a moment. You can do it. It will be like flying._

Like flying. He had always wanted to fly when he was a kid. He had always felt envious of a bird, wanting to have wings like them. And now he was going to be able to fly. Tears sprung at his eyes, burning his cheeks as they fell.

"I am not going to cry," Chandler whispered. "Not anymore."

_Not anymore. It's over Chandler. It's time. No more pain._

"No more pain."

_No more pain. You can let go now Chandler. It's time to go._

Chandler nodded. He clutched the blanket tightly, and raised his arms like they were wings. He was going to fly. Rachel was going to be safe, and he was going to fly.

_It's been a pleasure Chandler._

Chandler took a deep breath. She was going to be safe now. That was all that mattered. She was safe now. "I love you Rachel," he breathed, staring at the sky one last time. He wondered for a moment if he would really be able to fly. And then his mind went blank and he stepped forward; off the ledge.

Could he really fly?

He was about to find out.


	29. Chapter 29

First off, I must start with 'Happy 36th Birthday Matthew Perry! Woot! Love you!'...ahem now that i have that out the way, it's time to talk shop. I have to say sorry, this chapter is pretty short, but i just exhausted myself on the last chapter, so...and plus, i for some reason wanted to post this on Matt's birthday...don't ask, its my OCD coming into play eehehe. So yeah, this chapter was meant to be twice as long, but i decided to keep it short and simple, and add an extra chapter into my plan...by the time I'm finished, this will have 50 friggen chapters! (not really...about 34, i hope!) so please read and review, and please keep reading!

I don't own friends/characters/actors, but man oh man would i love to be the stripper that pops out of Matt's birthday cake...not that I want to be a stripper...nor am i implying that Matt would have a stripper...errr...happy birthday Matt!

* * *

Growing up, Chandler had always loved watching cartoons. Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck, you name it. He had loved them. But the one cartoon he had loved to watch the most was the Looney Tunes. Bugs, Daffy, Porky; he adored them.

As much as he had adored those characters, they could never beat Wile. E. Coyote. He had been Chandler's favourite character, right from day one. Watching the Coyote chasing after the Roadrunner had always made him laugh. Later in life, Chandler had imagined that he was the Coyote; never winning, never catching the Roadrunner, always holding up his little sign before he landed in a heap on the ground, only to jump back up and try again. That had always seemed like Chandler's life.

But, when he was a kid, he had never thought like that. He had simply watched it, and laughed. He hadn't wanted the Coyote to catch the Roadrunner; it wouldn't have been right. And it would have stopped the Coyote from getting into the mishaps that he always found himself in.

Chandler loved those mishaps, whether the Coyote was getting blown up, running into a wall, or having his own boulder or anvil land on top of him. He loved them, and loved the little signs that followed.

But most of all, he loved when Wile. E. Coyote would fall off a cliff. There would always be a moment where the Coyote would hover in mid air, hold up a sign saying 'eep' or 'oops' or something to that effect. He would always have enough time to show the sign, before falling to his demise. When Chandler was 9, that had been the funniest thing in the world.

20 years later, and Chandler once again found himself feeling like Wile. E. Coyote.

When he had stepped off that ledge, there had been a moment. He had felt like he was hovering in mid air, and had been sure for a second that, had he had a sign prepared, he would have been able to hold it up for the world to see. It could have been his last joke before leaving this world; a hell of a way for Chandler Muriel Bing to go out. Always with a bang. Always with a joke. That was Chandler. It seemed like the perfect way to go.

But, like always, Chandler wasn't prepared. He hadn't prepared for the moment. And so, instead of having one last joke, Chandler had felt an intense feeling of dread wash over him; he hadn't been scared, he had wanted this. But the feeling of hovering in the air, so far up, had terrified him. He wished he had a sign to hold up, something to break the tension that his own brain was creating, but instead, he held only the blanket.

That feeling of hovering was an odd feeling, and Chandler had wished it to be over. He had wanted to fly, but this wasn't flying. It was different to flying. More like floating; hanging in the balance. He wanted it to be over; wanted him to be free. It had only lasted for a split second, but to Chandler, it had felt like eternity. He had seen countless rooftops, people walking below, unaware. Birds flying. People through their windows. Roads. Cars. Everything. He had seen everything in that split second. Heard nothing, but seen everything. In a split second.

A single moment.

And then that moment had ended, and suddenly Chandler was falling.

His heart leaped into his throat; his stomach jumped, and he thought he might vomit. The wind rushed passed him, through his ears, into his mouth and nose. His fingers tightened on the blanket, and he fell. It was an intense feeling; falling. It made him feel alive; a feeling that he treasured. He wouldn't be able to feel alive anymore.

He thought all of this in a split second, before he even fell two feet. He loved the feeling of being alive; but he loved the thought of death even more. Freedom. It was a wonderful thing. He loved the feeling of falling. But, he knew it had to end.

And it did. But not in the way Chandler wanted it to.

His feeling of falling was hastily cut off, and Chandler found himself slamming against the wall. He cried out; partly from shock, but mostly because his head struck the wall.

What the hell, he wondered, dazed. He shook his head, trying to think straight. But he couldn't. Something was wrong. Something was trickling down his face. Why wasn't he falling anymore? He thought he could hear a voice, but wasn't sure. The wind was still rushing through his ears. Why, he wasn't sure. He wasn't falling anymore.

Why wasn't he falling? How was he just hanging here?

_You have got to be kidding me._

Chandler gasped, the voice surprising him. What's going on? Why the hell wasn't he falling? Why did his arms hurt?

_Chandler…let go._

Chandler frowned. Let go? What? Let go of what?

_Let go of the blanket! _

Chandler's frown grew deeper. Blanket? What blanket?

_The blanket in your hands! Let go of it._

Chandler shook his head, and suddenly it was clear. The fog was gone. The blanket.

He remembered now. If he let go, he would fall. Fall to freedom. He didn't know why he wasn't falling, but he knew he had to let go of the blanket.

_Let go! Let go now! Before it's too late._

Chandler nodded and did what the voice said.

He let go.

The feeling of falling came back, the feeling of freedom. And then, once more, it was rudely taken away from him.

Chandler screamed as something grabbed his arm. He was sure for a moment that his shoulder had been pulled from its socket. Tears sprung to his eyes once more, and the pain left him dazed again. The blanket fell past, floating away.

What the…

_Son of a bitch! Selfish! Fucking selfish fool!_

Chandler listened to the voice in his head rage for a moment, then looked up. Joey was gripping his arm, holding on for dear life. Chandler glanced at his friend's face. It was strained – from holding the excess weight no doubt – and there were tears freely streaming down his cheeks. Chandler could see Joey's lips moving, but he heard nothing. Nothing but the rush of the wind.

_Selfish! He can't let you die! That bastard! He has to let go! You have to fall Chandler! You have to fall!_

Chandler nodded. He had to. He had to, or they would die. The wind stopped suddenly and Joey's voice hit him with a vengeance.

"-lose you! I can't! Hold on Chandler! Don't you dare do anything! I'm going to pull you up! You aren't going to die! I won't let you! Damnit Chandler!"

_See? Selfish. He's so selfish. You have to die Chandler. You have to. No one, definitely not Joey, is going to stop you from that!_

Chandler nodded again. He had to make Joey let go.

"Joey," he said calmly. Joey stopped screaming, and stared down at him. Chandler smiled. "Joey…let go."

"No Chandler," Joey whispered.

"Yes…let go, and turn around."

"No," Joey said again, shaking his head.

"I have to Joey. I _have _to!"

"No!" Joey yelled. "Goddamnit Chandler! I am not letting go! I am not letting you die! I can't lose you!"

_Selfish. Always thinking about himself. You have to stop him Chandler. Have to make him let you go. This is unforgivable._

"Unforgivable," Chandler murmured.

"What?"

"Let go! I'm telling you Joey! You have to! You're killing Rachel!" Chandler yelled. Joey shook his head, tightening his hold on Chandler's arm.

"No, Chan! I'm going to pull you up! We're going to go back inside, and we're going to stop your head from bleeding. I'm going to pull you up now!" Joey said frantically. Something inside of Chandler snapped, and anger boiled over.

"Goddamnit Joey! Let go!" he shrieked. "You selfish bastard! Let me go! Let me go and turn around! I have to you idiot! I have to die, to save you guys! _I have to! _Let go, and turn around! You can't see this!"

"No!" Joey yelled. He tightened his hold even more and began to pull Chandler up; slowly but surely. It was hard, with Chandler fighting him ruthlessly. But adrenaline had taken over, and Joey had a burst of strength. Chandler was fighting a losing battle.

"No! You fucking idiot! Selfish! Selfish! Stop it! Let me go! Selfish!" Joey attempted to ignore Chandler's screams, but it still cut through him like a hot knife through butter. And just like a hot knife, it hurt. "Selfish! Let me go!"

"No," Joey whispered as he continued to lift, his voice strained from the effort. Chandler reached up with his free had and began to hit Joey; began to claw at his skin with his nails. Joey cried out, losing his grip.

Chandler started to fall again; started to feel freedom yet again. But then Joey had him once more. Barely.

"No!" Chandler screamed as he slammed into the wall again. The force of his body bouncing off of the wall made Joey lose his balance, and for a second, Chandler thought he was going to fall.

"No," he whispered.

_If Joey falls, then you die. You get what you want._

I don't want Joey to die! I'm doing this so he lives!

_But you will die if he falls…_

Yes but so will he! I know you aren't fond of him-

_I don't think you are at the moment either._

I'm not…

_Then why don't you want him dead?_

Anything…anything other then death. Joey can't die…I won't allow it.

_What are you going to do?_

"Just let me go!" Chandler screamed up at his friend. Joey shook his head, digging his heels in further to the ground. He wasn't going to fall; he couldn't. Chandler would die if he did. "Joey! Let me fall! You're going to kill yourself!"

_He wants that. Selfish._

"Selfish! Let me go!"

"Chandler, either we both live, or we both die!" Joey yelled defiantly, gripping Chandler's arm. "Now stay still! I'm going to pull you up!"

"Fuck you Joey! Fuck you!" Chandler shrieked, tears running down his face. He didn't know what to do…didn't know.

_You want to die, don't you?_

Yes! But not with Joey! He has to live! He has to!

_Then you have to make him let go._

He won't. He's-

_Selfish?_

And stubborn. He won't let me go, he won't!

_Selfish bastard! Selfish! He only want's you to live so he can be happy, so he won't feel any pain. I hate him…we hate him!_

I don't hate Joey; I can't! He's my-

_Best friend? Soul mate? Chandler, does any of that really matter? You told him; you warned him that if he tried to stop you again…it would be unforgivable._

I didn't tell him that, I only said it in my head.

_Bullshit! You told him!_

No, I-

_Chandler, you have to believe me! I haven't wronged you yet, have I?_

No…

_You told Joey…you can't forgive him._

I can't forgive him.

_Good…now you need to make a choice. While we have been chatting away, Joey has nearly pulled you up. What are you going to do? Pull him over with you? Or let him pull you up? He's selfish, remember Chandler. What he did is unforgivable._

I know…but-

_But what?_

Chandler glanced up at his friend. Joey, openly crying as he pulled Chandler up. There was only two ways around this. Either they both die, or they both live. No ifs, ands or buts. And as much as Chandler despised Joey at that moment, he couldn't let his friend die.

I-I…I can't…

_Fine…you will have to try at a later date then…but soon. We are out of time._

Soon…okay. I got you.

_But Chandler…Joey needs to be punished. It's unforgivable._

Right.

_We despise him. You must punish him for what he has done._

I know.

_Good._

"Just a few more seconds Chandler," Joey wheezed, taking a second to compose himself. He was seeing spots, sweat was running freely with his tears, and he could feel his heart pounding in his ears. He was sure he was going to pass out at any moment, but he couldn't. He couldn't allow that. If he did, they would both die. Joey didn't care about himself; no matter how many times Chandler called him selfish, it wasn't true. All Joey cared about was saving Chandler. He couldn't let his best friend die; not here, not now. If that made him selfish, then so be it. "We're nearly there." Joey smiled reassuringly down at his friend, who was glaring back at him. He was not happy. But Joey didn't care. He would take whatever abuse Chandler had to offer. He didn't care. Chandler was not going to die. He couldn't, wouldn't, mustn't.

"Hold on Chandler," Joey whispered, resuming his pulling. Chandler glared at him still, but didn't fight him. Joey was thankful for that. They were so close. His arms were about to fall off, but they were so close. No, not so close. They were-

Joey wrapped his arms around Chandler's body, and let himself fall back. He lay on the ground for a moment, gasping for breath. Chandler was safe. Chandler was okay. It was a wonderful feeling; so wonderful that Joey didn't even feel Chandler's body roll off of him. Everything was okay. Chandler was okay. Chandler was safe.

Joey started to sob; tears of happiness, exhaustion and shock. Chandler was okay.

He started to sit up, to check on his friend, but suddenly found himself on his back once more; fist beating him furiously.

"Why!" Chandler screamed, hitting Joey with all his might. All his anger, his frustration, his fury; all of those emotions came through in that one single word. And they were accompanied by his fists. Joey took the abuse gladly. Chandler was alive. He could beat him to a pulp, but it didn't matter. Chandler was alive.

_He must be punished Chandler. Hit him harder. Yell; scream…do what it is you have to! He has to be punished!_

"Why! Why couldn't you let me go! Selfish! _Selfish! _You bastard! You stupid, selfish bastard! Why! You fucking asshole! She's going to die now! You all are! Why! You fucking bastard! You stupid cun-"

Chandler's words were cut short and he was roughly pulled off of Joey.

"No! Leave me! He has to be punished! No!"

"Chandler!" Rachel yelled. Chandler stopped struggling and stared at Rachel; stared at the woman he loved. It had taken both Rachel and Monica to pull Chandler off of Joey and it had been a struggle. Joey slowly sat up, wiping the blood from his nose. He wasn't quite a pulp, but it was still pretty bad. Not that it mattered. Chandler was alive.

"No," Chandler whimpered. "I had to…I had to go…this isn't right. You're going to…"

_She's going to die now Chandler._

"No…I was supposed to leave so you wouldn't have to…I was…I was sup…selfish…why can't I go? Selfi-" Chandler went limp, his eyelids fluttering shut.

_Sleep now Chandler. You have a busy time coming up. You have to die. One way or another, you are going to die. Sleep now. We will deal with everything later. We will deal with Joey later. Selfish._

"Selfish," Chandler murmured.

And then he was gone.


	30. Chapter 30

Hi! First off, i gotta say thankyou for all the wonderful reviews! Man, oh man, it was a review overload! To quote Jim Carrey 'they love me, they really love me!" hehe. Leondra, thankyou, and i agree...chapter 16 was one of my fave chapters too...although it was a bitch to write! But the ones that are hardest to write usually turn out to be the best! Lauren...sniff, what can i say? You've stuck by me through thick and thin, i just gotta say...i love you...ahem okay enough of all this! I'm being ridiculous...I'll say my thankyou's at the end...which is sadly getting near...i want to finish it buti dont!

Okay, this chapter is heller long, and I;m aching all over from sitting at the computer all day, but it was worth it! I really hope you like this chapter, cause i nearly died writing it! I gotta say sorry for any mistakes, i didnt get around to reading it thoroughly to check for anything that spell check wont pick up...so if you see anything, just smile and nod, and continue okay! thankyou! Please read, and please continue with the wonderful reviews! I will try to post the next chapter...tomorrow i guess! when i finish it! Toodles!

I dont own friends/characters/ actors, but I am willing to wrestle lupins moon over who is more obsessed with Matt's birthday! I WILL FIGHT YOU HONEY!

* * *

He should have known.

Should have seen it. Should have figured something was different.

Well, he had figured it out, but it had taken too long.

Joey had been confused, like always. He had wondered why it had taken so long for Chandler to say goodbye, just so he could go get a sweater.

Joey had seen the lingering looks that Chandler had given each one of them; the pained look on his face as he watched them. That was the look of a man who was never going to return.

Joey had seen the sadness in Chandler's eyes as he stared at Joey; heard the strain in his voice as he spoke. He had seen Chandler take in every aspect of Monica's face, and the sad smile on his face as he did so.

Joey had seen the grief in Chandler's expression as he looked at him. Intermixed with that grief were a longing look, and a sense of pride. Chandler was proud of Joey; he didn't express it much, but Joey had always known. He had been confused as to why Chandler was expressing it at that moment, and wondered if Chandler was even aware that he was doing it.

Joey had watched Chandler stare at him for a long moment, and had wondered what his friend was thinking. That moment had continued, and Joey had felt the need to interrupt it. He knew that if he didn't, Chandler may have stood there for hours, just staring. His friend had been a bit spacey as of late.

Joey had seen the love in Chandler's eyes as he looked at Rachel. He had seen the heartbroken look on his face, and the way Chandler's lip had trembled. He had watched his friends' hand touch Rachel's hair, and the heartbreak had deepened. Chandler had smiled, and Joey had frowned. He knew Chandler's smiles, knew all of his expressions. That smile had been forced, and full of sorrow.

Chandler had kissed Rachel then, and while Rachel had been smitten and Monica had been feigning happiness, Joey had been perplexed. Chandler had been known to express his feelings in public, but never like that. He would hold hands, hug and give little kisses, but Joey had never seen Chandler kiss anyone like that before; no matter how much he loved the girl. Joey was confused as to why he would choose that moment, especially since he was only leaving to grab a sweater. He would be back almost immediately.

Chandler had stared at Rachel for a moment longer then necessary, savouring her appearance. And then he had been gone. Rachel had sat back down, a small smile on her face, and Monica had playfully poked her in the side, trying hard to appear happy for the two. Joey, meanwhile, had been running everything that had just happened through his brain.

Joey had always been slower then everyone else; always the last to figure things out. He knew that he wasn't as smart as everybody else in the group and he had come to terms with that; happily being on the receiving end of many of Chandler's jokes. He had never minded being slower then the rest.

Until that day.

Had Chandler been in his shoes, and Joey been in Chandler's, it would have been a different story. Chandler would have realised something was amiss before Joey had even left the apartment. Chandler would have insisted on coming with him; making sure nothing was going to happen. Chandler would have known.

But Joey wasn't Chandler. He was on his own. He knew something was going on but he wasn't sure what. And it was making his head hurt trying to figure it all out.

It didn't take long for Joey to get frustrated with himself, and he had become desperate to figure out the problem. He knew that the only way he was going to do that would be to either sit there and think it through – for a long time – or go and talk to Chandler. He had chosen the latter option, and had told the girls he was going to grab a sweater for himself. They had waved him off, still occupied with the kiss that Chandler had planted on Rachel.

Joey had slipped into apartment 19, and headed straight for his bedroom. It had been a while since Chandler had left, but he was most likely still in the room; most likely spacing out once more. Joey had been surprised to find the room empty.

He had walked out, perplexed, and called Chandler's name. There had been no answer, and the bathroom was empty. Joey had glanced at Chandler's closed door, swallowing the lump in his throat. That was the only place Chandler could have been, and it worried him. Chandler had barely been able to look at the room, so it seemed odd that he would actually go in there.

Joey had swallowed once more and had opened the bedroom door.

Once again, he had been surprised to find the room empty. Empty, except for a piece of paper on the bed. Joey had picked it up and read it, his heart sinking lower and lower with each word that passed.

_Don't hate me, don't be angry. Don't mourn me, but don't forget me. I had to do it. I had to. I had to save you guys and I had to be free. Don't hate me, and don't forget me. _

_I'm sorry._

Joey had let the note fall back down to the bedcover, his mind racing. Chandler was going to kill himself. He was going to try and end his life again. Joey should have realised, he should have seen it coming. Chandler had taken so long to say goodbye, he should have realised. Should have known that he was saying goodbye forever. He should have-

"Shit," Joey had whispered, glancing frantically around the room. He had no idea what good that would do, but he wasn't sure what else there _was_ to do. Besides the obvious. He had to save Chandler; had to stop him. He was not going to let his friend die, not when he should have known. Not when he should have been there to stop him; to prevent him from even leaving the note. Prevent him from trying to harm himself once more.

Joey had to save him. That one thought had been repeating through his head, faster and faster with each round. He had to save Chandler. But he had no idea where his friend was.

He wasn't in the apartment, and wasn't in the girls apartment. Where else could he go to-

Joey had always prided himself with knowing Chandler well; knowing him better then anybody. He had always seemed to know what Chandler was thinking, and what he was going to choose, when life handed him a decision to be made. So Joey had been frustrated that he hadn't known what choice Chandler had made this time.

He had taken a few deep breaths, to calm himself down and rushed into the kitchen. All the knives were still there. They didn't have a gun. All of Chandler's pills were still there, Joey had noticed as he picked one of the containers up. He had searched his mind; trying to think of any other way that Chandler could kill himself.

The roof.

He was going to jump.

The pills had dropped to the ground, the door slamming shut as Joey sprinted out the apartment. He had screamed Chandler's name as he started up the stairs, hoping that his friend would hear his voice and stop.

Chandler apparently hadn't stopped, because Joey didn't run into him as he rushed up the flights of stairs. He had stopped at the door, apprehension overtaking him. What if he was too late? What if Chandler had already-

Joey had shaken his head. He couldn't think like that. Chandler was going to be okay. Chandler was going to be fine. Joey had to save him. He had to.

Joey had opened the door, and his heart had stopped. Chandler had been standing on the edge; his arms spread wide, the blanket creating the illusion that Chandler had wings. He wasn't dead yet, but he was about to be.

"No," Joey had whispered, starting forward. He had heard Chandler murmur something, and then his friend had stepped forward. "No!"

Joey hadn't even realised that he had screamed. He hadn't even realised that his body had moved, but it had. He had lunged forward, throwing his body desperately towards the edge. He wasn't going to make it. Too much time had passed. He had failed. He wasn't going to make it. Chandler was going to die.

Those thoughts had rushed through Joey's mind and he landed on his stomach, pain coursing through his body. He had ignored the pain, his hand automatically reaching forward.

Somehow, some way, Joey's hand had snagged the blanket. It hadn't seemed possible. Too much time had passed; Chandler should have fallen to his death, while his best friend watched helplessly. But somehow, Joey had grabbed the material. Somebody must have wanted Chandler to live.

Joey had watched Chandler for a moment, watched the confusion on his face. He had watched the blood trickling down Chandler's cheek and he had watched as Chandler's expression had changed. Joey had suddenly realised what Chandler was going to do, seconds before Chandler had even realised it.

At the same moment Chandler let go, Joey had also let go. Once again, he should have missed, but once more, his hand had done the impossible. Chandler had screamed as Joey had grabbed his arm, the scream cutting through Joey painfully. He had hurt his friend, Joey had thought at the time. He didn't care that he had done it saving Chandler from _killing _himself. That hadn't mattered.

Joey had hurt Chandler. And once more, he had stopped Chandler from doing what he wanted. He had known that Chandler was going to be upset, that he was going to scream, going to yell, and going to plead; going to plead with Joey to let him go. Joey had known. But it still hadn't prepared him. He had been terrified; listening to Chandler telling him to let go. Chandler had wanted this so much, wanted to die so much. But Joey hadn't let him. He couldn't lose his friend, it was unacceptable. Chandler couldn't die. He couldn't, wouldn't, mu-

"Joey, you have to stay still!" Monica insisted, bringing him back to the present. Chandler was alive. Joey hadn't let him die. Everything had worked out. The girls had found the note and pulled Chandler off of him. Chandler had passed out. Joey had carried him downstairs; put him in Rachel's bed. Ross and Phoebe had come over. Ross had gone to call Dr. Mackenzie, and Monica had insisted on helping Joey. Insisted on causing him more pain.

"It hurts," Joey muttered, flinching once more.

"I know it does sweetie, but I have to do it," Monica said firmly, dabbing once more at the cuts on his face. Joey sighed, trying to stay still.

"Chandler really did a number on you, didn't he?" Phoebe said softly, watching as Monica attended to Joey's wounds. She had been horrified to learn what had happened, horrified to hear that Chandler had once more tried to end his life. She didn't want to lose him, she couldn't. It was hard for her, harder then she ever thought it could be. She had never realised how much she cared. Not until Chandler had started to hurt. It reminded her…and it hurt her.

"Yeah…yeah, he did," Joey murmured, glancing towards Rachel's room. She was in there with him, sitting with him. Joey felt a hint of jealously run through him. He wanted to be in there with Chandler. He knew that Rachel was Chandler's girlfriend, and had every right to be in there, but he was his best friend. He had to see him again, had to make sure he was okay still.

"Are you okay?" Phoebe asked quietly. Joey shrugged, wincing as Monica moved her ministrations to his arm. The three of them stared down at his arm, looking at the long scratch marks that covered it.

"What happened here?" Monica questioned, frowning as she dabbed at the deep grazes. They looked a bit like-

"Fingernails…he really wanted me to let go," Joey whispered. Monica looked away, anguish covering her face.

"H-He really wanted this, didn't he?" she said after a moment. Joey nodded, glancing at Phoebe. She looked lost. Joey wasn't sure if he had ever seen her look like that before, but he knew she must have at one point. Perhaps before they met. Perhaps when her mother-

"Are you okay Pheebs?" he asked. She looked at him, surprised.

"Why are you worried about me? I'm not his best friend here. I wasn't the one holding him up," she reminded him.

"I know…it's just, I know how you feel about …about suicide," he murmured. Phoebe sighed.

"Yeah…I know. It's just…well, it was really bad the first time… you know, the other day with his wrists," she whispered. "When I walked in there, and saw all the blood, and I could hear him screaming, and he wanted to die so much…it just, it really hurt. And I just kept thinking, 'I can't lose another person I love, not like this again'."

Joey nodded, taking her hand. It was a rare occasion to hear Phoebe talk so seriously, and he knew that she must have been hurting.

"But then he was okay, and I called the ambulance, you know? So it was like, it felt like I sort of saved his life. And it made me feel like I had done something useful. But then he was angry with me. He didn't say anything, but I know that you guys saw it too right?" Phoebe glanced from Monica to Joey.

"I had been kicked out by the time you were allowed in there," Joey said glumly.

"I saw it Pheebs. But he forgave you," Monica said softly.

"I know, but it was still…I didn't feel right being around him. I acted like I was fine, but I really wasn't. That's why I haven't been around much. I haven't been working; I've been sitting in my apartment. And today it was like, 'oh, I don't have problems, I'm not the one trying to kill himself, why am I acting like I have it so bad?' So I decided to come over here, and come and see him. But, you know, it happened again. And I should be upset for Chandler, and I am. But, really, I am just feeling sorry for myself." Phoebe glanced down at her hands, a tear running down her cheek.

"I didn't know you felt that way, sweetie," Monica murmured. Phoebe nodded.

"Yeah, well…like I said, compared to Chandler, I don't have any problems. He sees people dying, he blames himself, and he has a brain tumour. Oh, and he's tried to kill himself…twice. Compared to that, I have nothing. I'm normal. I don't have any problems, but still, my brain keeps telling me I do, telling me to be sorry for myself."

"We all have problems Phoebe," Joey said after a moment. "Our friend is hurting. That is our problem. We have to find a way to help him, a way to make him stop hurting. So, don't think you are the only one here. We are all feeling a little bit sorry for ourselves, and we all-" Joey interrupted himself with a little yelp, as Monica once again started to tend to his wounds. "Damnit Monica!"

"Sorry," she muttered. "But he's right Phoebe."

"Thanks guys," Phoebe said, smiling slightly. "Now, you didn't answer me before Joey. Are you okay?"

"No," Joey said honestly. "My…my best friend was just hanging off of a building, pleading with me to let him go, and then beating the crap out of me. I mean, I'm fine with getting the crap beat out of me, but Jesus…Chandler tried to kill himself again!" he sighed, scrubbing his face with his hand. "But, he's okay now. Chandler is alive, that's all that matters, right?"

"Right," Phoebe agreed.

"But he was so angry. He wanted this so much! I'm terrified that he is going to try something again. He still thinks that he is helping us! He is sure that he is protecting us. He called me selfish. And I think he is right."

"Joey, you did the right thing," Monica insisted.

"Did I?"

"Chandler is alive, isn't he?"

"Yeah, but he doesn't want to be. He is convinced we are going to die now. I'm sure, in his mind, that I _am_ selfish. That I saved him at the expense of our lives, just because I wanted him to live. Just because I couldn't bare the thought of losing him. And, really, how alive is he?"

"What do you mean?" Phoebe asked.

"He's lost it. He's not Chandler anymore. He is different. He doesn't want to live, and if he had his way, he wouldn't be living. And I'm scared that, either way, he is going to die. Either he is going to end up killing himself…or he is going to completely lose it, and…and we are going to lose him. He might as well be dead."

"Joey, Chandler is alive…that's the important thing," Phoebe said softly.

"They're going to take him away from us, aren't they?" Joey asked, glancing at Monica.

"It's possible," Monica answered after a moment. "Dr. Mackenzie was thinking about committing him before he even tried to…to hurt himself the first time. Now it's happened twice."

"But…they can't take him away. He wouldn't want that! And how are we supposed to look after him if he's gone!" Joey exclaimed.

"Joey, he needs help," Monica reasoned, the words killing her as she said them. "He needs to be in a place where they can help him. We can only do so much for him, he needs professional help now. They can take care of him better then we can, and they can make him better again."

"But…" Joey started, but knew it was useless. Monica was right. Chandler needed help. And as much as they wanted to, they couldn't help him. Not anymore.

The door opened, and Ross walked in. He had used the phone in apartment 19, not wanting to discuss Chandler in front of his friends. He knew that the talk would not be pleasant, and he was right. He hadn't wanted to hear what Dr. Mackenzie had said, as much as it was true. He hadn't wanted to hear it, and he sure as hell didn't want his friends to hear it. But they had to.

Before leaving, Ross had gone into Chandler's room. He had helped clean it up. Only he, Joey, Phoebe and Chandler had known what it looked like. He was glad that Monica and Rachel hadn't seen. It was bad enough that Phoebe had. And Joey. And him.

Ross hadn't wanted to return to the room, but he had to read the note. Chandler had written it, and Joey, Rachel, and Monica had read it. It seemed only right that he read it as well. And Phoebe. But Phoebe really didn't need to read it. Ross didn't want to subject her to a suicide note. She had never read the one her mother had left, and Ross thought it seemed right that she never read this one as well. Phoebe was strong, but even she had her weaknesses.

Ross hated thinking that the girls had read this; that his little sister, who cared for Chandler more than she admitted, had read it. He hated that the woman that he had once loved – perhaps still loved- had read the note, read the suicide note from the man she now loved. He hated thinking that Joey, who considered Chandler to be the most important person in his life, had read it.

And now, Ross hated that he had read it. It was short and simple, with nothing really scary about it. But the words still terrified Ross to his very core. Chandler had tried to do it again. Ross had never felt this helpless or lost in his entire life. Chandler was his best and oldest friend, and he couldn't help him. He knew that he would never be able to hear any of the words written on that little piece of paper without feeling pain. Chandler had nearly died, and Ross didn't know what to do about that. He didn't know what to feel; what to think; what to do. All he knew was that Dr. Mackenzie had some sort of a plan. He hated the plan, but knew it was necessary. Chandler needed help.

Ross had torn up the note on the way out of Apartment 19, making sure that it was unreadable. He had tossed it in the trash, and had gone over to the girls apartment; gone to give his friends the bad news.

"I talked to Dr. Mackenzie," he said as he walked over to the couch. He glanced at Rachel's bedroom, sighing.

"And?" Joey prompted. Ross sighed again.

"We're taking Chandler in tomorrow morning," he said softly.

"For how long?" Joey asked. He knew that they had to. He knew that Chandler needed help. But he still didn't want it.

"Indefinitely," Ross whispered. Joey frowned.

"What does that mean?"

"For as long as it takes. Until he's better," Ross explained. Joey bit his lip, staring down at his hands.

"Oh my god," Monica whispered, fighting the tears that were trying to escape.

"What if he's never better?" Joey asked after a moment. Ross didn't answer. He didn't have to. Joey knew what would happen if Chandler was never better.

"Chandler hit his head," he said suddenly, desperate to change the subject. "He was bleeding."

"I know sweetie, Rachel took care of it," Monica said softly, glancing up from her hands.

"Good," Joey whispered. "It's the least we can do…He's gonna be okay, right?"

"Of course," Phoebe soothed, patting his hand. She wasn't sure if that was true, but she said it anyway. They had to believe it. "He's gonna be just fine. You'll see. He just needs a bit of help."

"Okay," Joey murmured. He glanced up at Rachel's room again, once more wishing he was in there. "Okay."

* * *

Rachel ran her hand down Chandler's clothed arm, watching his face intently. He was awake, she was sure of it. He had been asleep at first, but he was awake now and feigning sleep. She had seen him asleep, and it was different. When Chandler was asleep, he did cute little things like twitching his lip or nose, and making little noises, his breath sometimes regular, and other times uneven. His eyes would constantly move underneath his lids, a sure sign that he was dreaming. Chandler was always moving in his sleep; very rarely did you see him completely still. But he apparently wasn't aware of that, so when he was faking sleep he would stay still and even out his breathing.

He was doing that now, and that was how she was sure he was awake. When he had first been brought in here, he had been twitchy and moving, but that had stopped about ten minutes beforehand. When their friends had been discussing his fate.

Rachel had heard what Ross had said, heard about what was happening tomorrow morning. She hadn't cried; she had felt numb. Like it wasn't real. She couldn't understand why this was happening to Chandler; why this was happening to them. She wished that this had happened to anyone but Chandler and she didn't feel the least bit guilty for thinking that. Terrible things were happening to people all over the world, and she didn't feel bad about that. She just simply ignored it, like everyone else did, and prayed that it didn't happen to her or someone she loved. Survival was important to her and important to everyone else in the world. Most would do anything to save themselves. It wasn't selfish, it was human.

So she went on with her life, surviving and hoping that it would never happen to her. But it had; someone she loved was hurting, and her survival instinct was coming into play once more. Anyone but Chandler. She couldn't bear to lose him.

Rachel shook her head, clearing her jumbled thoughts. She didn't want to lose him, but she knew that Monica was right. Chandler needed help. That was the most important thing. Him going away, going off with Dr. Mackenzie, was the worst case scenario, but-

No, that wasn't true. The worst case scenario was Chandler dying. Or Chandler slipping away from them. Rachel never being able to talk to him again; never being able to kiss him, to hold him, to love him. Never being able to see his blue eyes again.

Rachel knew that Chandler had to go; that he had to get help. But still, it killed her. She wanted more then anything to be able to help him, be able to hold him in her arms and keep him safe from the world.

But that wasn't going to happen. As much as she cared about him, as much as she loved him, she couldn't help him. Not anymore. She hated that she couldn't, but it was the truth.

Rachel sighed, pulling the covers closer around her and Chandler. She wished that he would open his eyes and look at her, but she knew that he wasn't ready to do so. He was probably trying to figure everything out, trying to come to terms with what had just happened. Perhaps he had even heard their friends talking about him, and was running that through his head. She knew that Chandler hated the thought of being taken away; going to a place like he was going to tomorrow, but it couldn't be helped.

Rachel studied Chandler's still face, biting her lip thoughtfully. Perhaps he was talking to himself again, arguing with himself once more. She knew it was normal for people to talk to themselves, but not in the manner that she was sure Chandler had been doing. It hurt Rachel to admit it, but Chandler was no longer sane. He had climbed those walls –as high as they were- and was stuck up there, without a way to get down; to jump down without hurting himself. Rachel wished she could be the one to help him down, but that wasn't going to happen. He had already tried to jump down one wall today, and look how that had ended. Better then it could have, but still.

Rachel couldn't believe that Chandler had tried to do it again. That note had been the most terrifying thing she had ever read; more terrifying then The Shining.

She and Monica had waited for Joey and Chandler to return, and soon had become restless. Monica had suggested they go and find them, but all they had found was the note. They had panicked, the thought of losing Chandler haunting them. It had taken a moment, but Monica had deduced that they were most likely on the rooftop. They had rushed up there, and were met with a scene that, although not as bad as it could have been, was still pretty horrible.

_Why! Why couldn't you let me go! Selfish! Selfish! You bastard! You stupid, selfish bastard! Why!_

Rachel closed her eyes, remembering Chandler's angry words and the way he had furiously been hitting Joey, over and over again.

_You fucking asshole! She's going to die now! You all are! Why! You fucking bastard! You stupid cun-_

Rachel and Monica had rushed over and grabbed Chandler, pulling him back with all their might. It had been a struggle, but they had managed to haul Chandler off of his best friend. He had struggled, but stopped when Rachel had screamed his name. She had watched as he whimpered incoherently, his sentences leading into one another, never finishing, never making any sense.

And then he had passed out, going limp in the girl's arms. Joey had sat up, his faced bruised and bloody, and Rachel had briefly thanked God that he didn't have any auditions coming up. She had no idea why she had worried about that when there had been much more pressing issues, but her worrying about Joey's career had kept her from thinking about what had just happened.

Chandler had tried to kill himself once again. She had gone numb at that moment, and had been feeling that way ever since. The thought of Chandler dying was too much to handle, so she tried to deftly ignore it.

Joey had picked Chandler's unconscious body up gently, ignoring the pain that shot through his body and the girl's insistence that they help him. He had carried his best friend downstairs, and placed him in her bed, and then explained, at Monica's urging, exactly what had happened up there, Phoebe and Ross joining them.

Rachel had listened, but hadn't really heard. She knew what he had said, but her brain didn't really comprehend at that moment. It took her a while to comprehend and it hurt, but she didn't cry.

Monica had dragged Joey away, to fix his wounds, and Phoebe and Ross had left her alone. Rachel had climbed into bed with Chandler, and gently tended to the cut on his temple. Thankfully, the blood had given the illusion that it was worse then it actually was. It was just a small abrasion and wouldn't need stitches.

Thank God, Rachel thought. He had too many stitches in him as it was. Her glance shifted towards Chandler's covered wrist, resting on the pillow next to his head. She reached over and pulled his sleeve back, then grimaced at what she saw.

Chandler's wrist was a mess. Half the stitches had been pulled out, and the wound was raw and angry. She bit her lip to stop from crying. He had done that. He had done that to himself.

"Having fun?" Rachel jumped at the flat voice, pulling her hand back. Chandler didn't open his eyes, didn't give any indication that he was awake, except for his voice.

"Finally decided to stop pretending that you were sleeping?" she said gently.

"You knew?"

"I always know," she whispered. Chandler rolled over, his back now facing her. Rachel sighed.

"You must be pretty mad at us," she said after a moment.

"You must be pretty mad at me," Chandler shot back. Rachel shrugged.

"I told you not to do anything again," she said softly.

"And I told you I had to do this." Rachel nodded, even though he couldn't see her. "I guess we're even then. Neither of us listened. Bad communication. That isn't good in a relationship, especially one as new as ours," Chandler murmured. Rachel smirked, then gently grabbed his arm and rolled him onto his back. Chandler didn't fight her.

"Yeah, I guess it is," she muttered. Chandler nodded, his eyes still shut. "Open your eyes sweetie."

"Why?"

"Because I miss them," she said softly.

"And you won't be able to see them for a while?" Chandler whispered. Rachel sighed once more.

"You heard?"

"Yes," he said shortly. Rachel nodded.

"Open your eyes," she said again. Chandler did as he was asked, looking at her with dull blue eyes. They looked the same as they did when he had been in hospital, after the first time. Over the last couple of days, his eyes had started to regain some of their spark, but they were now dead once more.

"You must be pretty mad at us," she repeated her earlier comment.

"I'm not mad at you," Chandler said in a quiet voice.

"Are you mad at Joey?" she asked after a moment. Chandler said nothing, but his jaw tightened. Rachel nodded again.

"Are you mad at me?" he questioned. Rachel shrugged.

"I don't really know," she admitted. It was Chandler's turn to nod.

"I'm mad at me," he said after a beat.

"Why?"

"Because I failed," Chandler whispered. "And now you are going to die."

"Chandler, no one is going to die," Rachel insisted.

"That's not what he says," Chandler rebutted.

"He? Who's 'he'?" Rachel asked, confused. "Who has been telling you that Chandler? Who said that you are killing us?"

"Never mind," Chandler muttered, starting to roll over. Rachel grabbed his arm.

"Who?" she hissed, suddenly angry. Someone had been telling him lies. But he hadn't spoken to anyone except for them. And-

_Me - crazy wrist slasher - talking to myself. You think that's surprising?_

"Did…did the voice in your head tell you?" she asked timidly, fearing the answer.

"Yes," Chandler whispered. Rachel squeezed her eyes shut, stopping the tears that threatened to fall.

"Chandler…baby, the voice is wrong," she said after a moment. Chandler shook his head, glancing at her.

"He's never wronged me before," he said softly. Rachel let out a sob, and Chandler frowned. "It's okay Rach."

"No, it's not," she whimpered. "The voice is wrong Chandler. We aren't going to die." Chandler's frowned deepened, and he rolled away once more.

"He's never wronged me before," he repeated, more to himself this time. Rachel sat up, and roughly rolled Chandler back over.

"You listen to me Chandler Bing," she whispered. "You said it yourself. You are losing it. As much as I hate to admit it, it's true. You've climbed your walls."

"I know," Chandler said after a beat. Rachel nodded.

"I know you know. But let's think about it. Who should you believe? The voice in your head; the one that isn't exactly thinking straight at the moment? Or your sane friends, and professional psychiatrist that is trying to help you?"

Chandler said nothing, but Rachel could see the confusion in his eyes.

"You need help sweetie," she murmured. "You just need a bit of help, and then you will be fine. You can come back home, and we can live the rest of our lives together."

"Until my brain tumour kills me," Chandler added, his voice tedious. Rachel hesitated, and then nodded.

"Yes….but that won't be for a very long time," she insisted. "You are going to live for a long time baby, I'm sure of it."

"Except I'm not," Chandler whispered. Rachel shook her head.

"Yes, you are!"

"No, I'm not…I have to die Rach."

"Damnit Chandler!" Rachel yelled suddenly, hitting his arm in frustration. "You don't have to die! We are going to be fine! That voice in your head is full of shit! You are not going to die, we aren't going to let you, so you better get used to that fact."

"I don't want to hear it," Chandler snapped, rolling over. Rachel set her jaw angrily, glaring at his back. "You can preach, you can yell, you can cry Rach, but I know what I know. Just because I'm crazy doesn't mean I can't make my own decisions."

"I-I can't let you die Chandler," Rachel whispered, his words making her anger disappear. She suddenly felt old, like she had aged a lifetime in the span of 20 seconds. "I can't sit by and wait for you to kill yourself. You can believe that the voice is right, but I'm here to tell you that it's not. Me. Rachel. The woman who cares about you more then anything. Would I lie to you baby?"

"No," Chandler said softly, after a beat.

"No," Rachel agreed.

"Would my mind lie to me?" Chandler asked after a moment. Rachel sighed.

"Y-Yes, I think it would. A lot of people's minds lie to them; tell them things that aren't true. Like when you saw me in the bath. That wasn't real, was it?"

"It could be."

"But it wasn't."

"It wasn't," Chandler admitted.

"So, isn't there a chance that your mind is lying to you?" Rachel said gently. There was a long pause.

"Maybe," Chandler said in a small voice. "But…it's so persistent. It's hard not to believe it. It is so persuasive."

"I know sweetie," Rachel whispered, lying down once more. Chandler let out a sudden sob, rolling back over to face her. He had a shattered look on his face.

"I don't know anymore Rach," he sobbed. "I'm so fucking confused. I thought I had everything figured out; thought that everything my brain was telling me was right, and then you come and tell me it's all wrong? I-I don't know! I can't think of what day it is, what happened yesterday, what I was thinking a few minutes ago. I-I'm getting information from everywhere, and it's all different! I don't even know what's real and what isn't!"

"I know baby, I know," Rachel whispered once more. "But everything is going to be fine! You can just spend a bit of time with Dr. Mackenzie-"

"But I don't want to!" Chandler shrieked suddenly. Rachel flinched, and then continued.

"But it will help. And then you won't be confused anymore. Everything will be fine. You have to trust me sweetie."

"I-I always trust you," Chandler stammered. Rachel smiled, and took his hand. She kissed his palm gently.

"Do you remember last night?" she asked softly. Chandler paused, and then nodded. "I thought you would. _That _was real. You and me. That is real. You know that?"

"Yes…that's why I had to do it," Chandler whispered. "To protect you."

"Is that what the voice said?"

"Yeah."

"The voice is wrong baby. You have to believe that. Even if you don't now, you will soon. I'm going to be fine."

_She's wrong. Rachel is smart, Rachel is beautiful, and we love her. But she is wrong._

Chandler shook his head at the voice.

She said that you are wrong.

_What does she know? She isn't in here! She's not the one who is having crazy dreams. Not the one that is a bad luck charm. Chandler. Trust me. I'm right. I'm always right. Rachel has lied to you before. I'm sure that she has. But I haven't. I would never lie to you Chandler, never wrong you in any way. You know that, don't you?_

"Chandler?" Chandler jumped at the sound of his name, and glanced at Rachel sheepishly.

"Sorry," he murmured.

"It's okay," she said softly. "Was…was the voice talking to you again?"

"Yes."

"What did it say?"

"That you were wrong," Chandler whispered. Rachel sighed.

"But I'm not."

"Okay," Chandler murmured, but he wasn't sure if he believed her. Wasn't sure who to believe.

_Doubt? You doubt Rachel? See? You don't believe her entirely. That is the first step to realising she is wrong…you still hate Joey, don't you?_

I don't know.

_Yes you do Chandler. Even if I am wrong, which I am not, killing yourself would have gotten rid of the pain that you are going through. You said it yourself, and you told him, that if he wronged you again, it would be unforgivable. Well, guess what Sparky? He wronged you again. He didn't listen to you. Didn't let you go. Even if I am wrong, Joey still wronged you. And that is unforgivable. We despise him Chandler. He is selfish. We despise him. Remember hitting him Chandler? That felt so good. I think you've wanted to do that for years, haven't you? And screaming at him the way that you did, I think it really got to him! He deserved it though. Selfish. He is selfish. We despise him…and seeing you haven't interrupted me, I think you agree._

"What are you thinking baby?" Rachel asked gently. Chandler shrugged.

"I don't really know," he murmured. "A lot of things. Nothing. Everything."

Rachel nodded, and Chandler could see the hurt in her eyes.

_You're upsetting her Chandler. She would be better off without you. Better off with somebody else. Anybody else. If you love her, you will leave her. She's going to die anyway. She deserves better then you. You have to leave her. If you love her, you will. You're hurting her Chandler. You don't deserve her._

"Shut up!" Chandler shrieked, causing Rachel to jump.

"Sorry," he whispered.

"It's okay," Rachel murmured. She stroked his arm gently, and then took his hand, careful of his injured wrist. "Please don't try to hurt yourself again Chandler. I-I can't lose you."

"Okay," Chandler whispered, although he wasn't sure if he was being truthful. He had thought for a while last time that he wouldn't hurt himself again, that he would listen to her. But then everything had changed.

_You are going to hurt yourself again Chandler. You should know that by now. You are going to do it; again and again and again, until you get it right. Otherwise they will die. Rachel deserves better. We despise Joey. You have to die. Rachel is hurting because of you. You want the truth? You have to jump Chandler. It's the only way._

Chandler shook his head. The voice seemed to be jumbling everything together, and it was confusing him, more so then usual.

"W-What time," he whimpered, the voice and the subject bringing out his emotions once more.

"'What time' what sweetie?" Rachel asked softly.

"What time tomorrow?" he whispered.

"I-I don't know baby. Probably pretty early."

"I want the voice to stop Rach. I don't like it."

"I know. I want it to stop too," Rachel murmured.

"It's telling me things…and it's like I can't fight it. I want to, but I can't."

"Dr. Mackenzie can help get rid of it." Chandler nodded.

"Okay."

_Wrong, wrong, wrong. You can't get rid of me Chandler. I'm you, you have to remember that. To get rid of me…well, you know that there is only one way to do that. And by doing that, it takes care of a lot of other problems too! Rachel dying, Monica, Ross, Phoebe. Not Joey though. We despise Joey._

We despise Joey, Chandler found himself agreeing. He didn't want to, but he found he couldn't control it.

_Good. He wronged you. It's unforgivable. At least you know something. At least you are listening to me about one thing. That's a start._

"I'm tired Rach," Chandler whispered, trying to ignore the voice.

"Okay…why don't you go back to sleep?" she suggested.

"Okay," Chandler agreed meekly. Rachel smiled reassuringly and watched as he closed his eyes.

Chandler tried to sleep; he really did. But he found he couldn't. Perhaps it was because the voice was relentless. It wasn't saying anything useful, instead repeating things it had already said, and things that he didn't want to hear. The voice was causing Chandler to twitch, and he found he couldn't stay still.

_That's a start. Listening is a start. We are on our way once more Chandler. Soon, you will be trying to do it again. Hopefully before the killing begins. Their killing, not yours. Well, except for Joey's killing. I'm hoping that will be long and painful. He deserves it. Selfish. So selfish. You have to leave Chandler. Rachel will die if you don't. She deserves better then you. We despise Joey. Selfish. Selfish!_

"Hey." Chandler heard Rachel's voice, soft and tired. "He's asleep. At least, I think he is. He's twitching, so that usually means he's asleep."

Chandler heard a low murmur; someone's voice. It was too low to understand, or to distinguish.

"No, I'm fine here," Rachel insisted. "I want to stay with him. It may be a long time before…before I get to do it again."

"Are you sure?" the voice was louder this time, and Chandler could distinguish it. He scowled.

_Selfish! He's selfish! He needs to leave Chandler. He needs to go. He shouldn't be talking to Rachel. She's smart, but he might make her change. We don't want her to be selfish as well, do we?_

No, Chandler thought, still scowling. Joey hadn't listened, Joey had wronged him.

_We despise Joey, He has to leave. We despise him._

He had to go. He couldn't stay. Joey hadn't listened, Joey had wronged him. He couldn't stay. Couldn't, wouldn't, mustn-

"Out!" Chandler screamed, sitting up. Joey and Rachel both jumped, and then turned to stare at him.

"Chandler," Rachel started.

"No Rach! I want him out! Get out! Get out! _Now!"_ Chandler yelled, pointing at the door.

"Chan," Joey said softly, looking more hurt then Chandler had ever seen him. The look on Joey's face made Chandler falter-

_No. He's tricking you. Selfish. We despise him! He wronged you! You told him never to do that again, but he did!_

-but only for a moment.

"No! I warned you Joey! If you ever wronged me like that again, I could never forgive you! Unforgivable! Selfish!"

"Y-You never warned me Chandler," Joey whispered, the look on his face deepening. Chandler shook his head.

"Yes I did!" he shrieked. "I told you! I _told _you!"

"When?" Rachel asked softly.

"At the hospital! I told you after…after…you left…"Chandler trailed off.

_No, you're getting confused Chandler. He knows. You told him. He knows._

"You never warned me Chan," Joey said in a quiet voice. Chandler stared at him, a confused expression covering his face.

"I-I can't…remember," he stammered.

"You never warned me Chan," Joey repeated.

_Bullshit! Chandler, listen to me! Who are you going to believe? Me, or the selfish bastard? He stopped you. He didn't listen. He _wronged _you! He is full of it! You warned him! You're just getting confused. That's okay Chandler, there is a lot to remember. He wronged you._

"I did!" Chandler yelled. "I told you!"

"You didn't!"

"You ruined my life!" Chandler screamed.

"You were trying to ruin your own damn life!" Joey exclaimed.

"Guys-" Rachel started.

"To save you guys! But you fucked that up! You're killing Rachel! I don't ever want to see you again!" Chandler shrieked, and then lowered his voice. "I hate you."

Joey stared in shock at his friend, Rachel doing the same. Both were unable to believe what he had just said.

"W-What?" Joey whimpered, taking a step back.

"I hate you! I _hate _you!" Chandler screamed, his face red with anger.

"Chandler!" Rachel snapped.

"No! Get out! Get out of here! I told you! I _told _you! I don't want to see you again Joey! We despise you! I hate you! Out! Out! _Out!"_

Joey let out a sob, then turned and fled the room. Chandler fell back, exhausted.

_Well done Chandler. He needed to be punished, and sometimes words hurt more then fists._

"Chandler-"

"I don't want to hear it Rach, I'm tired," Chandler muttered, cutting his lover off. He rolled over onto his side once more. Rachel stared at his back in shock.

"Chandler!"

"No, Rach! Later! I'm tired!" Chandler growled. Rachel opened her mouth, and then closed it once more.

"Then go to sleep," she snapped, climbing out of bed.

"Where are you going?"

"Joey was right. I do need a break. I'll be back later." Chandler heard Rachel's footsteps and then the door shutting. He sighed, rolling onto his back.

_She'll be fine…she can't stay angry at you for long. Especially not when she is going to die._

"Shut up," Chandler muttered.

_I'll shut up…won't change a thing though. Rachel is going to die. You can stop it. But she will die if you don't. You'll see._

The voice went silent, and Chandler rolled onto his side. Rachel wasn't going to die.

She couldn't. He wouldn't let her.

* * *

Rachel closed the door behind her, then wiped her face with her hand. She wasn't angry at Chandler. She couldn't be angry at him. She was just slightly irritated. It wasn't Chandler's fault that a crazy voice was telling him things that wasn't true. It wasn't Chandler's fault that he couldn't distinguish between what was real and what was not. He wasn't…himself at the moment. And because of that, she couldn't be angry at him.

"Hey," she said softly, sitting next to Joey. "Where is everyone?"

"They thought it would be best if they went out for a while…I don't know why," Joey murmured, staring at his hands, at the scar that ran across his right hand. He had done that saving Chandler's life. His gaze moved further up, to the scrapes on his arm, the uneven lines. Chandler's fingernails. That had hurt like hell, and Joey had nearly dropped him, but had managed to keep him safe. Managed to save his life.

"Are you okay?" Rachel asked after a moment. Joey shook his head, his eyes filling with tears once more. Rachel sighed. "Oh sweetie," she murmured, wrapping her arm around his shoulder. Joey leaned in to her and began to cry.

"He hates me because I love him too much to let him die….how fucked up is that?" he whimpered. Rachel nodded.

"I know honey, I know…please don't be angry at him. Please don't hate him," she whispered. Joey shook his head.

"I can't hate him Rachel, I love him too damn much!" he sobbed. "I just wish…"

"You just wish what?"

"I just wish that everything could be back to normal."

"I know," Rachel murmured, pulling Joey closer. "I feel the same way."

"But it will all be fine soon, won't it? After they help him? He won't be angry at me then, will he?" Joey asked; pleaded. Rachel sighed. She hoped not.

"Everything will be fine Joey," she said softly. "It's all going to be okay." Joey nodded, closing his eyes. He leaned his head on her shoulder, and Rachel kissed his temple softly. "It's all going to be okay."

She hoped that was the case.


	31. Chapter 31

Hey folks! Thanks for all the reviews! They're great! I feel special! Hehe shucks! Anyway, this is a shortish chapter...just like it was meant to me! Only 2 more chapters left after this one! And once again, ignore any spelling mistakes...it is 2 am as i postthis! I'm pretty tired hehe! Please enjoy, and please read and review!

Oh, i have been told this chapter is a bit...hmm, disturbing, so this is jsut a forewarning! I didnt want to raise the rating of the story just for one chapter and hell...people see worse on the news! Please read and review!

I don't own friends/characters/actors...but I missssssssssssss watching Matthew Perry each week! Wah!

* * *

9:30.

"Damnit," Rachel muttered, stopping in her tracks. She hadn't meant to have stayed out that long. Especially not when it was her last night with Chandler in what could be a long time.

A tear trickled down Rachel's cheek at the thought, but she didn't bother wiping it away. She had tried that for the last hour and a half, and no matter how much she wiped, they just kept on coming. Rachel sighed and turned around, intent on heading back home. She had been walking aimlessly through the streets of New York since leaving the apartment – leaving an upset Joey and a crazy Chandler – and it had only just occurred to her how insane that was. Seems like Chandler wasn't the only one in the group that had lost their mind, she thought sardonically.

What had she been thinking? She had lost track of how many times she had heard on the news about a woman, such as herself, being attacked at night-time in New York. And if Chandler found out-

Well, if any of her friends found out, really. But especially Chandler. He was paranoid enough that something was going to happen to her; that she was going to die. This would just provide his paranoia with new fodder.

Rachel sighed, the thought of Chandler entering her mind once more. She hated this. She hated everything about this situation. She wanted nothing more for it to not be real. For her and Chandler to be happy together; for them to be together, move in together. For Chandler to propose. For them to walk down the aisle in what would be the happiest day of their lives. For them to have children; one boy, one girl. For them to try and think of a baby name that would go with Bing. She wanted to look into her child's eyes, and see Chandler's beautiful blue ones staring back at her. She wanted their kids to have their father's sense of humour.

She wanted them to watch the kids grow; send them off to collage and beyond. And for her and Chandler to grow old together, and for them to die together, knowing they had lived a long and fulfilling life.

Rachel wanted all of that. She had originally wanted that with Ross, and had dreamt of that happening between them. And then they had broken up. Rachel had still dreamt of Ross and her doing all those things together. For a while, anyway. Then she had moved on, and the man in her dreams had been faceless.

And then there had been Chandler. Sweet, funny, beautiful Chandler. She had no idea how she could have missed him, standing right there in front of her for all those years. But she had missed him. And it had taken this horrible event for her to realise her feelings towards him.

In a way, the dreams, the brain tumour; they were a blessing. She most likely would never have figured out her feelings had it not been for them. Or she would have, and it would have been too late.

"Yeah, because me figuring it out this time round wasn't too late," Rachel muttered, rolling her eyes as she pulled her jacket closer. The dreams and brain tumour weren't a blessing. She would give anything -even her knowledge of her feelings- for Chandler to be sane and healthy. Then they would be happy; not in a wonderful, togetherness sort of happy, but they would be content. And maybe Rachel wouldn't hurt as much.

In a perfect world, Chandler would be healthy and sane, and they would have realised their feelings anyway. But this was not a perfect world. It never claimed to be; pretended maybe, but never claimed. She wanted so much for it to be a perfect world, but it wasn't.

"Life sucks," Rachel murmured, glancing up at the street sign. McLeay Street. She had no idea where that was. She had no idea where _she _was. Had she really wandered that far? She couldn't remember. But then, this walk had been taken in an attempt for her to do some serious thinking time. Apparently, she had done that. Just a bit too hard. Next time, she would think and pay attention to where she was going.

Not that there would be a next time. Her friends wouldn't allow her to go out again. She could just imagine what Chandler would say.

'_Beautiful woman walking alone in streets of New York at night. You're pretty much just screaming 'massacre me!''_

Rachel smiled, shaking her head. No, that wasn't right. Chandler would say something much funnier then that. Well, he would have once. These days-

"Shit," Rachel whispered, the tears coming once more. She leant against the street sign, trying to regain her composure. It took a moment, but it worked. She straightened up, and glanced at the street sign once more. She really had no idea where McLeay Street was. Besides the place where she was at that moment, of course.

She glanced around at the people walking by, unaware of her dilemma. Half of them probably had no idea where they were either. New York was a confusing place. Rachel cocked her head thoughtfully. She really had two choices: continue walking and hope something looks familiar, or hail a cab.

She made the decision quickly. She wanted to get home to Chandler as quickly as possible. And she sure as hell didn't want to continue walking around by her lonesome in the dark. That wouldn't amount to anything good. The headline pretty much wrote itself.

Rachel glanced around once more, searching for a cab. She wasn't sure whether to be surprised or not when she couldn't find one. It was hard to get a cab in the city, but that was usually because so many people were after one as well, not because there were none in sight. Rachel sighed. She would have to continue walking until she came across one.

"Hopefully soon," she muttered as she started to walk. The dark streets of New York were really getting to her. Was this hoe Nicole and Sarah had felt?

No. Most likely not. They hadn't had any idea that they were going to be attacked.

Well, Rachel wasn't going to be attacked, but the thought of it had started to hover in her mind. She was paranoid.

It was probably a good thing though. Nicole and Sarah hadn't been prepared. Rachel was. She was paranoid. She wouldn't be surprised if she was attacked. And perhaps the fact that she was paranoid about being attacked, and Nicole and Sarah hadn't thought about it-

"Could work to my advantage," Rachel finished her thought. If you thought that something was going to happen, there was a high possibility that it wasn't going to.

So, she wasn't going to be attacked. Why was she even thinking like that?

Because Chandler thinks your going to die, a little voice whispered in her head. That's made you paranoid.

He had seen her dead, in the bath. And the little voice in his head – the voice that Rachel hated more then anything – had told him it was going to happen.

But Rachel knew that wasn't true. Chandler was seeing things. Chandler was making up things. No, the voice in his head was making up things. The voice that was telling him to do things. To slit his wrists. To jump off a building.

Rachel hated that voice. And she knew it was wrong. Chandler wasn't thinking straight. He was sick. He wasn't well. He had climbed his wall, and he just needed Dr. Mackenzie to help him back down. It was a long jump, but Rachel knew that Chandler could make it. He had good knees; he could land safely without hurting himself.

Chandler wasn't thinking straight. So, therefore, the things that he was seeing, was hearing, was thinking; they were wrong. Rachel wasn't going to die. None of them were going to die. Her paranoia went away a bit at that thought.

"Taxi!" she screamed suddenly, a cab coming into view. Her paranoia was leaving her, but she still wanted to get the hell out of there. "Tax-"

Rachel was cut off by a hand wrapping around her head, covering her mouth. She let out a surprised yelp, then started to scream against the hand as she was pulled back; pulled towards an alleyway.

She struggled wildly against her attacker, alternating between biting his hand and screaming her head off. In the midst of all the chaos, the little voice in her head was musing about how ironic this whole situation was. The moment she stops being paranoid, she gets attacked. If the situation hadn't been so serious, Rachel would have laughed. In fact, for a second, she almost did laugh. But that small moment of insane hilarity was pushed aside when she was thrown to the floor.

"Please….what do you want?" she whispered, staring up at the man looming over her. He was tall, well built, and very attractive; brown hair similar to Chandler's, deep brown eyes. Rachel shook her head, wondering why she was studying a person's looks at a time like this. It just seemed odd to her that a man, who looked like that, should not have been attacking her. He seemed like he should have been on a billboard selling shampoo, not threatening her in an alleyway. That was a job more suited to fat, ugly men.

"That is an interesting question." Rachel's thoughts were interrupted when the shampoo model started to speak. He smiled, and Rachel suddenly didn't find him attractive anymore. His smile was devious and sick, one you would see on a serial killer on the news. She didn't like that smile. Nor did she like the way he was slowly walking towards her, his hand hidden in his coat. Rachel backed up against the wall, unconsciously aware that she had sat in a puddle. That didn't matter though, even though the voice in her head was once more screaming; this time about the fact that her jacket had cost her what had seemed like half her savings. But it didn't matter. She had a horrible feeling that it was going to be ruined a bit more. "What do I want?" the man with the sick smile echoed her question. "I want a lot in life. I want the love of a woman. I want to be rich. I want to be famous. There are so many things that I want…did that answer your question?"

"N-No," Rachel stammered, pressing her back up against the wall. She could try to run, but she knew it would prove to be fruitless. He had an athlete's body; there was a very good chance that he would catch her before she was even on her feet. She could scream, but she had already tried that, and no one had come racing to save her. And really, she wasn't sure if she _could _scream at that moment. She was having enough trouble talking.

"No?" the man echoed once more, stopping in front of her. "No! Well, I'm sorry, princess; I must have misunderstood the question! Would you please explain it to me!" he snapped sarcastically. Rachel flinched. She didn't like his brand of sarcasm. She preferred Chandler's much more.

"I-I…I don't know…what do you want from me?" she whispered, staring up at him fearfully. He grinned; smiled that sick smile.

"I want you to hear you scream," he hissed, bending down to Rachel's level. She stared at him for a moment, her brain shutting down for a split second.

"I-I have money," she stammered. "It's not much…but-"

"I don't want your money," he snapped, cutting her off. Rachel pressed her back into the wall once more, hoping that if she pressed enough, she would go straight through to the other side. Hoping that it would get her out of this hell. She wanted to get home to Chandler. She couldn't die. It was unacceptable. Chandler wouldn't be able to cope with that. He would blame himself. He would kill himself. He would die as well. That was unacceptable.

"Please," she whispered. "Just take it…let me go…I have to get back to him."

"Him?" her attacker smiled, reaching out a hand to touch her hair. Rachel jerked away, glaring at the man. "You got a boyfriend?"

Rachel stayed silent, choosing instead to continue her glaring. The man became impatient quickly.

"I won't ask again," he growled. Rachel didn't answer. Nor did she see the hand that struck her cheek. She cried out, falling to her side.

"Y-Yes," she snapped, her hand automatically going up to her cheek.

"Really? What's his name?"

"I'm not telling," Rachel said defiantly. She flinched, expecting another slap, but the man's hand remained dormant. His face took on a thoughtful expression. Rachel watched him warily; terrified to move or yell.

"Is he a good man?" her attacker asked finally. Rachel stared at him in surprise. Of all the things that he could have asked, she had not been expecting that.

"He's a great man…a concept that you are obviously not familiar with." Rachel regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. That was not the way to get out of this hell hole. Her attacker obviously agreed, because she once more found herself on her side, her cheek stinging.

"Well, I guess you will never find out if he would make a great husband," the man snapped, grabbing her hips and pulling. Rachel opened her mouth and screamed. She screamed the way that the girls in horror movies screamed, except with more desperation and less cheese. She screamed, and then she brought her hand up and hit the man; hit him with all her might.

"Get off me!" she shrieked, trying to push him away. "No! Help me! _Help _me! Somebody please! I need he-"

Rachel was cut off by her attacker roughly covering her mouth with his hand. The force of his hand snapped her head back, making it connect with the hard ground. Pain exploded in her head and she moaned; unable to do anything but.

"You're in the middle of New York, princess. Do you really think that somebody is going to help you?" the guy hissed, reaching once more into his coat. Rachel watched him; unable to do much else. She couldn't move. It was as if she was paralysed, either with pain or fear. She knew she had to move, but she couldn't. She just _couldn't._

"Please…please don't hurt me," she whispered. "I'll do anything…just let me go home…please! He needs me!"

"He needs me, he needs me," her attacker mocked. "I don't give a damn if he needs you! At this moment in time, _I'm _the one that needs you!" Rachel's eyes widened at his words, causing him to laugh. "Don't worry; I'm not going to rape you. I'm not that kind of guy."

"What kind of guy are you?" Rachel asked, fearful of the answer. She had to move. She knew she had to. If Monica was in her shoes; if Phoebe was…they would have moved. They would have been long gone. But Rachel was not Monica or Phoebe. She wasn't going anywhere. And that frustrated and scared her more then the man looming over her, the sick smile still in place, and the hand being taken out of his coat.

"I'm the fun kind," the man answered, and suddenly his hand was completely out of his coat. Out of his coat, and holding something. Before Rachel could comprehend what he had, an excruciating pain in her stomach caused her to scream. She saw spots, and suspected that she had blacked out for a moment. But then she was back, and gasping for breath. The pain. The pain was too much. She didn't know what the pain was, but she wanted it gone. That, and the pressure in her stomach. Something was in there. She could feel it.

"W-Wha….no, please," she panted, clutching weakly at the man's arm. He shrugged her off, smirking once again. Rachel started crying and was surprised that it had taken that long. She was usually one to cry at a TV commercial.

"You're not going anywhere princess. And neither am I," the man sneered, and the pressure in her stomach was gone. Rachel tried to scream, she really did. She wanted to scream, the pain was so severe. But the only thing that came out of her mouth was a choked cry. Her attacker grinned once more, and held up his hand for her to see. A knife, she realised. He had stabbed her with a knife, and had just pulled it out then. She had been stabbed.

It was then that Rachel realised she was going to die. She wasn't going to lose Chandler; he was going to lose her. She was going to die, without seeing Chandler again. Without touching him, without smelling him, without kissing him. She was going to die without saying sorry; apologising for snapping at him. Rachel let out a sob. She was going to die. She couldn't die.

But she was going to.

"Please!" she sobbed, trying to back away. But she was still paralysed. "Please…don't kill me."

"That would ruin the fun now, wouldn't it?" the man asked playfully, leaning forward. He brought the knife closer; too close to her face for comfort. "You are incredibly beautiful," he whispered. Rachel shook her head, raising her hand feebly. She had never felt so weak in her entire life. She had never felt so much pain in her entire life. "It would be a pity to ruin such a pretty face." He smiled and pressed the knife against her cheek. Rachel let out another cry as the blade pierced her soft skin. That man's smile grew wider as he pressed deeper and dragged the knife slowly down.

"N-No!" Rachel pleaded, once more raising her left hand. This time though, she succeeded in grabbing his hand, and had enough strength to pull his hand away. The knife cluttered to the ground next to her head, as Rachel pressed her hand against her cheek, feeling the blood streaming through her fingers. She stared at the man, who was staring back at her.

"You attempt to stop the bleeding on your face, but don't do anything about the bleeding from your stomach?" he mused, chuckling. Rachel shook her head, trying to clear it. It didn't help and she found her eyes closing instead. She was going to die anyway. Why not make it quick and easy.

A scream left her lips as pain coursed through her right hand, as if it was on fire. She had thought that the pain in her stomach was the worst pain she could ever feel. She had been wrong. Rachel breathed through the pain, fighting off the wave pf nausea, and the darkness that was threatening to take her. She took a moment, and then opened her eyes. The man was smiling down at her, running the bloody knife across his sleeve, as if trying to clean it. Rachel took a deep breath, sweat dripping into her eyes, caused by the pain. She slowly turned her head and glanced stupidly at her right hand. It took a moment for her to realise that there was something wrong. And then it hit her, and she nearly threw up.

Her fingertips were gone. No, not gone. They were still there, but they were lying inches from the rest of her hand. She swallowed, trying to keep down the bile. Her hand. Her fingers. She continued to stare at them, studying them carefully. She could see the bone, through the blood that was trickling from the newly created stumps.

"Oh god," she moaned, her voice thick with horror and pain.

"Maybe I should do the other hand? Even it out a bit?" Rachel tore her eyes away from her mutilated hand and looked up at the man. He was smiling again; smiling his sick smile. He was going to kill her. But she didn't want that. She could still get away. If she tried. If she really-

"No!" she screamed, a burst of adrenaline rushing through her. She raised her left hand and struck her attacker on the side of the face. He fell back, and Rachel scrambled to her feet. "Help me! Somebody, please! Help me! No!" she screamed as arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her back. "No! You sick fuck! Get off me! _Help me!"_

Her screams changed to that of a strangled cry as pain exploded into her side. She took a risk and glanced down, horrified to see the knife buried into her side; buried all the way to the hilt. "No…please," she whispered, her vision darkening slightly. The knife was pulled out and she fell to her knees; fell next to her severed fingertips. Chandler would be able to find a joke in this situation, she thought suddenly. He would be able to make this situation better. But he wasn't here. She was thankful for that. He wasn't here; he didn't have to see this. But he probably would anyway. In his dreams he would. She was still going to cause him pain, even after she was gone.

"Chandler," she murmured, leaning against the wall. She was really going to miss him.

Hands grabbed at her, lying her down. She didn't struggle. She couldn't. Not anymore.

"Chandler? Is that your boyfriend?" her attacker whispered. Rachel stared at him, her eyes void of any spark. The man smirked at her silence. "Chandler, hey? Classy."

Rachel continued to stare at him, unable to do anything else. She was dying. She was fading away. And he knew it.

Her attacker smiled; grinned that sick smile, and brought the knife closer. Up to her throat. Rachel flinched at the cool steel, her breath coming out in short gasps. Her attackers grin grew wider and he jerked his hand.

Rachel let out a gasp, which came out more as a gurgle. Her throat. She wanted to raise her hand; to attempt to close the slit in her throat. Attempt to savour her life. But that wasn't going to happen. She was dying. She was about to leave.

"Well, this certainly has been fun," the man whispered. Rachel felt a warm liquid bubbling in her throat; in and around. The man grinned, and Rachel knew that smile was going to haunt her till her last breath, and well into the afterlife.

Her attacker shook his head and stood. "I was going to put you out of your misery, but I think this was is more exciting. For both of us."

Rachel stared up at him for a moment, stared at his sick smile. She knew that it would haunt her to her last breath, and she was right. Even after she closed her eyes, she could still see it. As she took her last breath, she could still see it.

And then she saw nothing.

Chandler's eyes flew open with a gasp.

Monica was there, leaning over him, but he didn't care. Rachel. Dead?

"No."


	32. Chapter 32

I must say sorry once more! This chapter is short, and this chapter is meant to have another 2000 words...but alas, it doesnt. Because i am going away for a couple of days, i was hoping to get the second to last chapter out before then. But of course, i ran out of time, so i only did half of it! So, there is now two more chapters left to go hehe...sorry! But hey, more updates eh?

I'm sorry for the shortness, but i must be off! It is really late and i have to get up early! hehebut when i come back, i expect reviews! I have adored the ones i have recieved already, so please keep it up! And once more, dont mind any mistakes! I did this quickly! So kisses, and please read and review!

I dont own Friends/characters/actors, but once more, Matt Perry is coming with me on my latest trip!...i go on alot of trips, huh?

* * *

Monica was terrified.

She had been calling Chandler's name for the past two minutes, and shaking him roughly, but he had been completely unresponsive. No, that wasn't true. He had whispered the word 'no', and then had become unresponsive. She had no idea what was going on in that head of his, but he seemed to be in a state of shock; staring straight ahead, unblinking, unseeing. He hadn't even flinched when Monica had pressed a tissue against his bleeding nose.

It had never been like this before. Chandler had screamed, Chandler had yelled. He had sobbed, he had clung, and he had hyperventilated. But he had never gone catatonic before. She was terrified.

Monica had been sitting out in the lounge room, thinking everything over. Everyone else had left. She had thought about the first time she had met Chandler; thought about when she had cut his toe off. She had thought about the moment she realised she loved him. It had been not long after her and Richard had broken up, and he had been there to comfort her. He had hugged her, and held her for hours and it had been then that Monica had realised.

It had scared her, and she had avoided the fact for a long time. She couldn't get with Chandler. She wasn't sure why, but she knew that she couldn't. For one thing, she knew that he didn't feel the same way. And for another…well, she really didn't know. She knew why these days –Rachel – but back then, she had no idea. Perhaps she subconsciously realised what was going to happen.

Monica's thought's had been interrupted by an earth shattering scream, coming from Rachel's bedroom. Monica's heart had sunk. It was his last night here, and she had hoped for a peaceful one. But apparently, that had been too much to ask. Monica had jumped to her feet and rushed into the bedroom, her heart pounding in her chest.

Chandler had been screaming unintelligible words, his back arching in pain. Monica had leapt onto the bed and grabbed his arms. Monica was, as they all said, freakishly strong, but Chandler still proved too much for her. She was thrown off almost immediately. The screaming had continued, even after Monica had pinned him down once more. She had screamed his name repeatedly, but he hadn't stopped.

And then suddenly, as quickly as it had started, Chandler went silent. His eyes had flown open with a gasp, and he had whispered his 'no'. And that had been it.

Monica was terrified. She had no idea what to do and was seconds away from rushing to get help when Chandler blinked. Such a small movement, but it was an improvement.

"Chandler?" Monica called softly, cupping his cheek with her right hand; her left still filled with the tissue. Chandler blinked again, and then moved his gaze to her face. Monica smiled. "Chandler? Are you okay sweetie?"

Chandler blinked again, his face still blank. He felt numb. He was frozen.

Rachel? He had dreamed about Rachel? No. No, it couldn't be true. No!

_It is Chandler. She is going to die. I've told you countless times. I told you that you had to believe me! She is going to die! All because you failed._

"You're lying!" Chandler screamed, causing Monica to jump.

"Chandler?" she whispered.

"No, no, no, no, no," he moaned, shaking his head. Monica glanced desperately around the room, searching for something; anything.

Rachel can't die! She can't! You're lying! You are just trying to trick me!

_I am not Chandler. How would I trick you? Why would I trick you?_

You want me to die. You're trying to kill me! They are trying to help me, but all you want is for me to die! You're tricking me!

_How would I trick you?_

You created the dream! It's not real! Its not! It can't be! I won't allow it!

_Chandler, it's real. Rachel is going to die. Tonight. She is going to be murdered; gruesomely murdered. Just like in your dream. She is going to be stabbed, and her fingertips are going to be severed, and her throat-_

"Shut up!" Chandler shrieked, covering his ears with his shaking hands. "Get out! _Get out! _You're lying!"

_I'm not lying Chandler. You know that. We are wasting precious time here. Time better used for saving your girlfriend. She is going to die._

No.

_The dreams are real Chandler. They are real! Rachel is going to die! The dreams haven't lied to you before Chandler. Why would they lie to you now? _

Chandler covered his face with his hands. He didn't want to believe. He didn't want to. But he was starting to.

"Please," he whispered. "Don't let it be real."

_It's going to happen tonight. Just after 9:30. Rachel is out for a walk. I'm sure if you asked Monica, she would tell you the same thing. Rachel is out for a walk. Ask her._

"Who are you? Why are you doing this to me?" Chandler pleaded.

_I'm not doing anything to you Chandler. I'm trying to warn you!_

I know who you are, Chandler realised suddenly. You're this _thing _in my head! The evil growth! The tumour! I'm not listening to you! You can't tell me anything, you are just a growth!

_I am not…please Chandler. I'm trying to help you! You have to believe me! You have to save her!_

Chandler shook his head. Get out of my head.

"Out!"

"Chandler, I'm not going anywhere." Chandler faintly heard Monica whisper, but he ignored it.

_I can't do that Chandler. You have to save her! Rachel is going to die! Believe me!_

No, it's not true. I can't lost Rachel, I can't.

_Then don't. Go save her._

"But, you're lying," Chandler murmured.

_Ask Monica. Ask Monica where Rachel is. Then you will believe. You have to. Rachel is going to die if you don't. Ask Monica._

"No."

_Do it!_

Chandler didn't want to. If he did, it would mean that it was true. So he didn't want to.

But he did. He couldn't control it.

So he did.

"Where's Rachel?" Chandler hissed, suddenly turning his attention to Monica. She had been sitting there, watching him scream and yell at the voice in his head, and then going silent for long periods of time. She hadn't wanted to leave him. She was too scared to; too scared to leave him unattended.

"What?" she whispered, surprised that he was suddenly talking to her. Chandler grabbed her arms roughly and stared deep into her eyes.

"Where is Rachel!" he growled.

"She…she went for a walk!" Monica answered quickly, flustered. Chandler let out an agonised cry, letting go of her arms.

It was true. The dream was true. Rachel was going to die.

"No," he moaned.

"Chandler, what is it?"

"No…she can't…she can't be…I have to save her!" Chandler yelled. He quickly climbed out of bed.

"Whoa, where do you think you're going?" Monica exclaimed, grabbing his arm. She wasn't letting him go anywhere. Not in this state.

"Let me go!" Chandler cried, pulling his arm away. "I have to! She can't die!"

Monica stared at Chandler for a second. She? Who's she? She must have appeared in Chandler's dream.

"What did you dream about Chandler?" Monica asked, calmly and evenly. Chandler let out another cry, and shook his head.

"I-I can't! I can't tell you!"

"What was it?" Monica insisted, grabbing his arm once more.

"No…no, you can't know!"

"Chandler!" Monica screamed, panic and frustration taking over.

"It was Rachel!" Chandler screamed back, his eyes widening moments after his sentence ended. Monica paled, her arm dropping to her side.

"What?"

"I-I have to go…now! I have to save her!" Chandler insisted, tears pooling in his blue eyes. Monica shook her head. She wasn't letting Chandler go anywhere.

"Chandler, you can't go anywhere at the moment. You're in no condition! I'll call the police."

"No! It has to be me!" Chandler persisted.

"I am not letting you out of my sight!" Monica hissed, shaking her head once more. "I'll call the police!"

"Mon, I have to!" Chandler pleaded.

_It has to be you Chandler. You have to do something. You have to get past Monica._

"No, Chandler! No!" Monica exclaimed, trying to be as firm as possible. She couldn't let him go. Not even for Rachel's sake. The police would take care of it.

_She is as stubborn as Joey. You have to get past her Chandler. You have to do anything!_

Chandler nodded, anger and frustration boiling over. He had to get past Monica. They were running out of time. He wasn't sure what the time was, but he knew it was getting close.

"You stay here, I'll call the police. Everything is going to be okay sweetie. It's going to be fine," Monica whispered.

_Anything Chandler. Anything!_

Monica was on the floor before Chandler had even realised his fist had been raised. He stared down at her unconscious face in horror.

"Oh my god…what did I do?" he whispered.

_She'll forgive you Chandler. She'll understand. You have to save Rachel. You had to do it._

Chandler nodded. He had to do it. Monica would forgive him.

_We have to go…now! There is not much time!_

Chandler nodded again, sending once last glance at his unconscious friend before leaving the room. He had to go. Even with the evil voice in his head, he had to go.

_Good Chandler. Rachel needs you._

"Leave me alone," Chandler whispered as he quickly slipped on his shoes and jacket. "I told you to leave. I don't need you."

_Yes you do Chandler._

"I told you to go away!"

_Just an argument! You need me! Rachel would die if it wasn't for me!_

"Out! Get out!" Chandler screamed, opening the front door. He didn't need to voice. He didn't want the voice. It was a distraction. He needed to think straight. Needed to save Rachel. And he couldn't do that with the evil growth chatting away.

_Fine…I will leave. But you can't do this on your own Chandler._

"_Out!" _Chandler screamed once more. There was nothing but silence and Chandler smiled in satisfaction. He would most likely need the voice soon, but Chandler didn't care. It was evil. It was its fault that Rachel was dying. He had caused the dream.

Chandler was sure of it.

He checked his watch as he ran down the stairs, wondering why he was still wearing it. That didn't matter though. The time was all that mattered. And there wasn't much left. He was running out of time.

Rachel needed him, and he was running out of time.

Chandler swore under his breath and quickened his pace. He wasn't going to lose her. He couldn't, wouldn't mustn't.

But he was running out of time.


	33. Chapter 33

Wow, i think that this chapter was literally the hardest chapter i have ever written! Im not sure why, but it was very hard! So, ya'all better enjoy it hehe! Thankyou for all your reviews! I feel sad, but happy that the next chapter is my last! I dont want it to end ,but when it does i can write a new story...and i have like a million ideas, so that will be great! So please, read and review, and i promise the next chapter, my last chapter, will be up in the next 2 days! Please enjoy! Oh and any spelling mistakes...once again ignore, i aint perfect you know! Love ya all!

I do not own friends/ characters/ actors but i wouldnt mind Matthew Perry running up to save _my _life! Woohoo!

* * *

Chandler had never been known as being much of an athlete.

Growing up, he had participated in the occasional football game and had been adequate at it, but had never been good enough to play on a team. He had done a bit of swimming as a teenager, and had actually been quite good at it, but had given it up before he could excel too much. His reasons for stopping were partly due to lack of interest, but mostly due to his father's embarrassing habit of coming to watch him swim dressed as a different Hollywood starlet each time. That had turned him off participating in most sports, with the exception of tennis.

Chandler had started playing tennis not long after giving up swimming, and had proved to have a natural flair for the sport. But once more his lack of interest had been the cause of him stopping. Since then, he hadn't played any sport – with the exception of a short stint at the gym - preferring to watch instead of participate.

Chandler had never been known for his sporting prowess, which is why it came as no surprise to him that after several minutes of running, he was exhausted.

He wasn't a runner. He wasn't an athlete. He was the type of guy who should have been taking a cab somewhere, not sprinting towards his goal. But Chandler was in a rush, and a blind panic.

The woman he cared about more than anything was about to die, and Chandler was running out of time. He could have hailed a cab, but there was a chance that it would have taken longer to drive then to run. Traffic was heavy at this time of the night, and there was no doubt in Chandler's mind that he would have been stuck in the cab for quite a while, had he driven.

So Chandler ran.

He dodged people on the sidewalk, receiving many angry shouts and glares as he rudely brushed past them. But he didn't care who he pissed off. All he cared about was Rachel. She couldn't die. She couldn't, wouldn't, mustn't. It was unacceptable.

Nothing mattered. Nothing but Rachel. He had hit Monica; possibly hurt her badly. But that didn't matter. She would heal. She would forgive.

If Chandler's dream came true, Rachel would not heal. And there would be no chance of forgiveness. Chandler couldn't not allow that. She had to live. She had to survive. Even if he died saving her, Chandler didn't care. He had been planning to die anyway. Saving Rachel's life in the process made it that much more honourable. And at least he would die knowing that she would be alright. That she would live to mourn, love, and leave – when her time was up. She wasn't going to die.

Chandler couldn't remember ever running this much or this fast in his entire life. He couldn't remember the last time his heart had been beating this fast, or he had been this terrified. He was a mix of emotions. He was scared, exhausted, sad, angry, and a million other emotions that he could not name at will. He was a basket case. And he had a stitch in his side.

"Shit," Chandler gasped, clutching at his aching side as he ran. He couldn't breathe and the pain was growing worse by the second, but Chandler didn't care. He would gladly feel the pain, multiplied by a million, if it meant Rachel's life was saved.

Chandler glanced down at his watch, squinting at the numbers. It was dark, and his quick movement made reading difficult, but he eventually figured out the time.

"No, no, no, no," he moaned in despair. 9:26. He was nearly out of time. Chandler somehow quickened his pace, although it seemed impossible. How could he run faster, when he was already running as fast as he could? Chandler didn't know, but he somehow managed to do it. The pain in his side intensified ten fold, and Chandler thought for a moment that he would pass out. The moment passed and Chandler breathed through the pain. He couldn't pass out. Rachel needed him. He couldn't stop. He couldn't give up. She needed him. He had to be there. He had to stop the man with the sick smile. He had to.

He glanced up at the street sign, and gave out a sudden, triumphant cry. McLeay Street. He had made it. Rachel wasn't going to die, because he had made it. Chandler paused for a moment to regain his breath, hands on knees. No point trying to save Rachel when all he could do was pant.

He straightened up after a moment, and glanced around frantically.

"Shit!" he screeched, turning around wildly. There was no alleyway to be seen.

Chandler ran his hands through his hair, his glances becoming more and more frenetic. How could this be? Rachel had been here. She had been right next to the sign when he had attacked her…hadn't she?

Chandler couldn't remember. He was sure that she had been, but there was no evidence to back up his memory. Where was the alleyway? Where was Rachel? Had he ran straight past her? He ran his hands through his hair again, letting out another cry. He had failed. She was going to die. All because he had gotten his dream mixed around.

No.

She couldn't die. She was around here somewhere. She had to be. But she wasn't. There was no alleyway. There was a McLeay Street. There was the sign that Rachel had leaned against. But there was no sign of Rachel. The dream had been wrong. It had to have been wron-

"Wait!" Chandler shrieked suddenly, not caring if anyone heard him. There was no one around him anyway. "She walked! She walked!"

He spun around quickly and started back the way he had come. She had continued walking after pausing next to the sign. Chandler must have run straight past them.

"No," Chandler gasped as he ran. He hadn't seen her. She must have already been in the alleyway. He was running out of time. He may have already run out. She could have already been dead. He glanced at his watch once again. 9:35.

"Shit!"

Chandler once again quickened his pace, but payed attention to the alleyways he passed. She could be in any one of them. She could be crying, or bleeding, or dying. He had to find her. He had to.

Chandler barely noticed the two figures in the dark alleyway; one lying on the ground, the other looming above. They blended into the darkness well, and Chandler almost ran past, his mind not comprehending at first what he was seeing. He had become so used to seeing empty alleyways, that he hadn't expected this one to be occupied.

He almost ran past, but a sudden, floating voice stopped him in his tracks.

"-to rape you. I'm not that kind of guy."

"What kind of guy are you?"

Chandler froze at Rachel's question, hearing the fear, pain, and nervousness in her voice. Now that he was finally here; finally able to do something - finally able to save her – he panicked. It was up to him to save her. If he failed, she died. No ifs, ands, or buts.

Chandler froze at Rachel's question, but the movement from her attacker and his snide answer caused him to spring into action.

"I'm the fun kind."

"No!" Chandler screamed, lunging forward. He had no idea what he was going to do, but once again he didn't care. He would improvise. He was good at doing that.

Rachel's attacker jumped in surprise, and started to turn to see who was interrupting them. Before he could get a good glimpse, Chandler was on him; knocking him clear off of Rachel. They went rolling; Chandler stopping before they could slam into the wall. Rachel's attacker was not quite as lucky, and hit the wall with a grunt.

"Chandler!" Rachel gasped in amazement. Chandler heard her voice, but didn't turn towards it. Instead he grabbed her assailant -who had started to sit up- and slammed him once more into the wall.

"Bastard!" Chandler screamed at the man, tears streaming down his face. "You sick fuck! Why! Why would you do something like that!"

"I-I didn't do anything!" the man exclaimed, terror shining in his eyes. He was bigger then Chandler, and easily stronger, but Chandler had adrenaline on his side. The man could see the pure fury and hatred in Chandler's eyes, and knew that he would have no problem murdering somebody that night. He also knew that there was a good chance that the 'somebody' was going to be him.

"You were going to! Don't you _touch _her!" Chandler shrieked, his face flushed with anger, tears streaming down his cheeks. "You bastard! You deserve to die!" His right hand snaked around the man's neck, and he squeezed.

"Chandler," Rachel said softly, laying her hand on her lovers shoulder. She couldn't let him kill this man. As much as she hated the guy, she couldn't let him do it. And she knew he was going to if she didn't step in. "Chandler? Baby? It's okay. _I'm_ okay."

"H-He was going to hurt you," Chandler whispered, not relinquishing his hold. The man was gasping for breath, his face quickly losing all its colour.

"I'm okay," Rachel repeated gently. "Chandler, sweetie. Please let go."

"I can't," Chandler whimpered. "You didn't see…you don't know what he was going to do."

"I know, but it didn't happen. Chandler, please let go," Rachel pleaded. "You can't kill him. It's not in your nature. You're a good man Chandler. If you do this, you will be just like him."

Chandler considered her words for a moment, staring at the man's pale face. He was still gasping for breath, but the pauses between gasps were becoming longer and longer. Chandler watched the man's eyelids flutter, and felt him start to go limp. He was dying. He was going to be dead soon, and Chandler was going to be the one who killed him. As much as he wanted the man to die, he knew he couldn't do it. Rachel was right. What Chandler had seen in the dream hadn't happened. Rachel was fine. And there was little chance that the man was going to hurt her now. As much as Chandler wanted him to die, he knew that everything Rachel had said was true. And he didn't want Rachel to witness him killing a man. He didn't want her to see that. That wasn't protecting her.

Chandler let go.

"It's okay sweetie, everything is okay," Rachel soothed as Chandler fell back, away from the gasping man. Every ounce of adrenaline had left him, and now Chandler simply felt tired. Tired and emotional. It had been so close. Too close. Not just Rachel's death, but the attackers' death. Chandler had nearly killed a man. That thought scared him almost as much as Rachel's death.

"Oh god," Chandler whispered, his body beginning to tremble as he sagged against Rachel. He watched the man - desperately drawing in gaping breaths – for a moment, then turned away. "Oh god."

"It's okay sweetie," Rachel repeated, wrapping her arms around his shaking body. She had gone from panicked to composed quickly. She knew that she had nearly died; that she would have if Chandler hadn't been there. He had seen something, something horrible. She knew that she had escaped death, but that didn't matter to her. All that mattered was Chandler, and the fact that he was hurting. Rachel pushed all her earlier fear; her panic, and her pain into the back of her mind. She ignored her attacker. He wasn't going anywhere for a while.

"I-I thought I was too late," Chandler whimpered, clutching on to her jacket for dear life. Rachel nodded. "I thought you were dead."

"But I'm not," she whispered. Chandler took in a shuddering breath, nodding weakly.

"I saw you die…I saw you die."

"It wasn't real."

"It nearly was. I saw him kill you. I saw him _torture _you! He…your face and…fingertips and…" Chandler trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. Rachel pulled him tighter, running her hand through his hair.

"It didn't happen," she murmured. Chandler nodded again. "I'm okay. I'm okay." She pulled away slightly and pressed her lips against his. Chandler kissed her back, clinging to her with desperation. He had almost lost her, he realised once more. He had almost lost her, without telling her how he really felt. That couldn't happen.

Chandler pulled away, staring into her eyes. Rachel smiled slightly, although it was strained. He had to tell her. He had to do it now; otherwise he might never have the chance. Chandler smiled back; also strained. He ran his hand through her hair, mindful of the wound at the back of her head; the wound caused by her head hitting the ground. He pushed that thought out of his mind, and opened his mouth to tell her.

Rachel watched Chandler smile at her, then leaned into his touch as his hand ran through her hair; matted with sweat and blood. She watched him open his mouth, and then her attention was diverted away from him. It focused instead on a movement behind Chandler, and Rachel gasped.

"No!" she screamed, grabbing Chandler. She threw him out of the way; pushed him just as the knife came down. Instead of piercing Chandler square in the back, it hit Rachel.

Chandler blinked, unsure of what had just happened. He had gone to tell Rachel he loved her, and she had screamed and thrown him out of the way. A quick thought entered his mind. Perhaps she had known what he was about to tell her, and hadn't wanted to hear it?

Chandler knew that thought was ludicrous, and he pushed it out of his head. Instead, he turned his focus to the scene in front of him. Rachel's attacker was looming over her, the knife in his hand dripping with blood. Chandler's heart dropped. He couldn't see Rachel properly – the man was blocking most of her – but he knew that she was hurt. She could be dying. He could have fatally hurt her.

Something inside Chandler snapped, and his vision went grey. He was aware that he was moving, but he couldn't see or feel what he was doing. He wasn't in control of what he was doing.

His vision returned a moment later, and Chandler found himself leaning over the attacker, knife in hand. He was screaming, and he could see blood, but he still wasn't sure what was going on. He still wasn't in control.

"-unt, stupid fucking asshole! I will kill you! You sick _fuck! _Selfish! Why! You fucking bastard! I hate you! I _hate _you! Fuck you, you sick son of a bitch! Why!"

Chandler could see and feel his hand moving, and he could hear and feel the abuse streaming from his lips. But he still wasn't in control. He still didn't comprehend. There was blood, but he couldn't comprehend.

"Fuck you! Fuck _you! _Bastard! Asshole! _Fuck you!_"

A hand grabbed Chandler's arm, and he spun around, knife ready to kill whoever was disturbing him; whoever was trying to stop him from getting his revenge.

"Chandler!" Rachel shouted, grabbing his arm before he could hurt her. Chandler gaped at her for a moment. He had been sure she was dead. He had been _sure._

"Rach?" Chandler whimpered. He felt the knife fall from his hand. "Y-You're okay?"

Rachel nodded, clutching her injured shoulder. The knife wound hurt more then anything she had ever felt in her life, but she didn't care.

"I'm okay baby…its okay," she whispered. Chandler stared at her with wide eyes, his body trembling.

"I-I thought…I didn't know…" he murmured, glancing down at his hands. His blood covered hands. He let out a gasp, and turned around. A moan escaped his lips as he looked at the scene in front of him.

Rachel's attacker was dead. Very dead. He had been _butchered_. Chandler glanced from the body to his blood covered hands.

"N-No," he stammered, falling back. "I did that…I killed…I killed him."

Arms wrapped around him, and he leaned back into the embrace.

"Its okay Chandler, it's going to be okay," Rachel soothed in his ear, staring down at the body. Chandler had lost it. She had sat there, watching him repeatedly stab him, with vulgar profanities streaming from his lips. She had never seen such hate, such violence, such fury. He had lost control; he hadn't been Chandler anymore. Rachel had been in a state of shock, from both the pain and what Chandler was doing. It had taken her a minute to comprehend what was going on, and she suddenly realised she had to stop him. If she didn't, he could have gone all night, and there already wasn't much left of the man.

She had grabbed his shoulder in an attempt to stop him; an attempt to get Chandler to return to her. He had turned around, and Rachel had nearly had a heart attack. She knew that Chandler would never do anything to hurt her, but this wasn't Chandler.

"I killed him," Chandler whispered once more, shaking without mercy. Rachel pulled him closer, kissing his brow.

"Its okay Chandler, it's going to be okay," she repeated her earlier statement, although she wasn't sure if that was true. Chandler had just killed a man. How could it be okay?

"I killed him, I killed him." Rachel closed her eyes, feeling tears spring to them.

"I know…but it will be okay," she whispered. She felt another shudder go through Chandler and opened her eyes. He was staring blankly at the body, tears streaming down his cheeks. Rachel let out a sob.

"It's going to be okay Chandler," she insisted, her voice thick with emotion. "Everything will be okay."

"I'm tired Rach," Chandler murmured.

"You can sleep baby…its okay," Rachel whimpered, watching his blank face intently. He nodded but didn't close his eyes, instead continuing to stare at the body, tears still streaming down his face.

"I killed him," he whispered again, his voice dull and lifeless. Rachel shook her head.

"Don't worry about it sweetie," she insisted. Chandler shook his head slowly, never taking his eyes off the corpse. He raised his hand and wiped at his cheeks.

"I'm not supposed to be crying."

"You can cry baby."

"But I'm not going to. I can't, I won't, I mustn't."

Rachel let out another sob at his words.

"I killed him," Chandler repeated. "I'm tired." Rachel nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Just close your eyes honey…everything will be okay. You can sleep now," she whispered. Chandler nodded again and closed his eyes. Another sob escaped Rachel's lips as she felt him go limp in her arms.

He could sleep now.


	34. Epilogue

Well, it's taken me nearly two months, but I've done it! This certainly is a proud moment for me...i rarely finish stories, especially not stories that end up being 89,775 words long! AWoohoo! They are usually around 60, 000 words shorter hehe. Anyway, i must thank you all so much for reading this story...if it hadnt been for you guys urging me on, i might never have finished it! Your reviews have meant the world to me, and i only hope that ya'all will stick with me when i write my new stories...which i will do very soon...i'm hoping to get a Chapter One of my new story out in the next couple of days! So, thankyou so much for sticking by me, and thankyou so much for reading! It's lovely to have fans! And now i can finally sleep, push this story out of my mind and continue on with something new! So thankyou all, and good night!

Please, pretty please, read and review...especially the one that have been waiting till the end of the story to review...i know that a lot of people do that...i do that hehe. So please review!...and once more, ignore spelling mistakes!

I do not own Friends/ characters/ actors, buti will be taking Matthew Perry out for a nice non alcoholic drink in celebration for finishing this! He deserves to celebrate too, i wouldnt have written this without him...well, being...there, i guess..WHOOPA!

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She knocked; quietly and gently.

She wasn't sure why she bothered, but she did it anyway.

Rachel stepped into the room, wincing as she jarred her injured shoulder. She briefly glanced down at the sling her arm was encased in, then turned her attention to the inside of the room. Sighing, she walked inside and took a seat.

"Hi baby," she whispered, smiling sadly. She didn't expect Chandler to answer, but she was still disappointed when he didn't.

It had been four days since the attack; four days since Chandler had spoken. Rachel missed his voice. She missed seeing his blue eyes watching her, instead of watching the ceiling blankly. She missed his smile, she missed everything.

"I wish you would say something," Rachel murmured, taking his limp hand in her own. "I wish you would look at me. I miss you Chandler."

Chandler continued to stare at the ceiling, just like he had been doing since the attack. Since he killed that man. Rachel bit her lip in an attempt to stop crying. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her emotions.

"You're not with me anymore, are you Chandler?" she whispered sadly. "The doctors said that you have retreated into yourself; that you have shut down. I didn't want to believe it. I wanted to believe that you would come back to me. But that isn't going to happen, is it?" Rachel let out a sob, squeezing her eyes shut. "Do you even know that I'm here baby? Do I even exist? Can you hear me Chandler?"

Chandler didn't respond, which caused Rachel to let out another sob.

"I-I can't believe this has happened," she cried. "I…God, I can't believe it. I was so sure that things would be okay; that you could get some help and it would all be fine. I was so sure!" Rachel shook her head, not caring that her locks fell into her face. She wasn't going to let go of Chandler's hand, especially not for something as insignificant as pushing her hair back.

"I love you Chandler," she whispered. "God, I love you so much. More then anything baby. You were the man I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with…but that isn't going to happen now, is it?"

She watched Chandler blink, and shook her head. "I wish it could. I wish it so much! I also wish…I wish that you knew how much I loved you. I wish I had told you before it was too late. I-I wish I knew if you loved me back."

Rachel pressed her lips against Chandler's limp hand, sighing against his skin. "I think you did, but I never knew for sure…I love you Chandler. And it kills me that I'm here without you. That you are in a place that I can't get to. I will never be able to hold you, kiss you, make love to you. I-"

Rachel cut herself off with a shuddering breath, and closed her eyes once more. "I will never be able to walk down the aisle with you, had kids with you…die with you. We won't be able to have that. Because you aren't coming back, are you Chandler?"

Rachel felt a tear trickle down her cheek, and she took in another shaky breath.

"Dr. Mackenzie said…he said that there is a chance. I know that you may come back to me, that there is a chance, but something tells me that isn't going to happen. I hate myself for thinking that, but I know that it's true. I love happy endings, but this isn't going to be a happy ending. You were right baby; you really do have bad luck. But you were wrong when you said you were a bad luck charm. You are anything but that. I am lucky to have known you; lucky to have loved you. I'm only unlucky that we have to part ways." Rachel let out a sob at her words. "I can't believe I am even saying these words. I hate that I am saying these words. Life is so unfair! Why? Why did this happen to us; to you? I just…I don't understand it Chandler, I don't!"

She released his hand and moved her fingers up to his cheek, feeling the cool skin beneath her digits.

"I-I… want to be with you more than anything baby…it kills me that that wont happen…but, at least I have my memories. I know what it's like to be with you, to talk to you…to love you. But that isn't enough. I want it all, but that isn't going to happen. All I have is my memories. And my dreams."

Rachel let out another shaky sigh, feeling the hot tears streaming down her cheeks. She stoked Chandler's cheek lovingly, her tears coming harder when Chandler didn't respond to her touch. He truly was gone.

"I-I see you in my dreams Chandler…you're all I see. But of happier times. Before all this…and after. I dream of what we would have been like together…we would have lived in the suburbs, in a big house…with a cat…because I know you like them more. The street would have been wide, so the kids could ride their bikes down it…we would have had a white picket fence…and a room where Joey could live of course."

Rachel let out a short laugh, but it was hollow. She gnawed at her lip for a moment, watching Chandler's blank face. "We would have been so happy…three kids, our cat, our beautiful house…I see all that in my dreams. I see you in my dreams. You're all I want to see, you and me…it will always be you and me Chandler."

Rachel let out an agonised cry when her words went unnoticed.

"Please Chandler! Please baby, look at me! Talk to me! I need you, I need you so much…I can't cope like this, I-I don't…I don't know what I'm going to do without you…I need you…" Rachel trailed off, harsh sobs wracking her body. She cried for several minutes, clinging to Chandler desperately. "Why can't you come back to me? Why can't we go home, and live happily ever after? Why? I just…I don't…" she shook her head, unable to finish her sentence. "I-I need you sweetie…this is just too unfair. Why does it seem like good things only happen to bad people?" Rachel shook her head again. "Everybody…they all say hi. They want you home, just as much as I do Chandler. They want to look after you…I don't know how I'm going to tell them that you aren't coming home…don't know how I'm going to tell Joey…" Rachel trailed off at the mention of their friend.

"Joey is sorry Chandler. He…he never wanted to upset you, but he still thinks he did the right thing, that pulling you away from that ledge was the best thing he could have done…I'm not sure if I agree with that….maybe he should have let you fall. Then you wouldn't be stuck like this, stuck inside your own head, facing your own demons…stuck with that voice that you hate so much. That we hate so much. Maybe you would have been better off falling…maybe it wouldn't have hurt so much. At least you would be properly gone then…instead of only mostly gone, almost in reach, almost here. But…at least you are still here, even if you aren't _really _here. At least I can still look at you, touch you, feel you. That is selfish of me, I know. Me, glad that you are stuck in your limbo, just so I can touch you. It's selfish, but I don't care…I'm not ready to let go of you yet Chandler." Rachel let out a sigh, running her hand through Chandler's silky hair. "Joey is sorry…and I'm sorry that you two left things the way you did…he thinks that you hate him Chandler. That's why you have to come back. If not for me, then for Joey! You have to right things with him baby! Otherwise he will spend the rest of his life believing that his best friend - the person he cared about more then anything – left hating him. Its killing him Chandler…you have to come back. Please, we need you. We can't cope without you! Who is going to make us laugh now? Who is going to comfort us when we are down?"

Rachel took Chandler's limp hand in her own once more, staring down at his smooth skin. "Monica isn't angry at you…she understands why you hit her…she's okay. I know that you must have been beating yourself up about that, and I hope you can hear me…she's okay. She just misses you… we all miss you baby."

"Miss Green?" Rachel jumped at her name, then slowly turned around. A nurse was standing in the doorway with an apologetic look on his face. "I'm sorry, but it's time to go." Rachel shook her head.

"No…please, can I please have another minute?" she pleaded. The nurse hesitated, then nodded.

"Okay," he said softly.

"Thankyou." Rachel watched him walk away then turned back to Chandler, her lip trembling. "I-I have to go baby…I don't want to…I hate leaving you. What if you have a dream? These people wont be able to comfort you like we do…I miss you Chandler." Rachel sighed, letting the tears fall down her cheeks. "I-I have to go, but I will be back tomorrow. And the next day. And the next…I'm not going to leave you Chandler, I could never leave you." She stood up, her hand still intertwined with his. "I-I guess that I will be seeing you in my dreams tonight…and then I will see you tomorrow…I have to see you tomorrow…I have to get you to come home with me baby, I have to."

"Miss Green?"

"I'm coming," Rachel snapped, never taking her eyes off of Chandler's face; watching as a tear fell from her cheek to his. She gently wiped it away. "I love you Chandler…I love you so much…and I'll be back…I will do anything to get you home with me… I don't care what the doctors say…I don't care what the little voice in the back of my head says…I will get you back Chandler…and then I won't need my dreams anymore, because I will have the real thing…I will have you." Rachel leaned down and pressed her trembling lips against his. Chandler naturally didn't respond and Rachel let out a small sigh. "I love you," she breathed against his lips. "I'll be back…I love you."

Rachel turned and walked away; walked towards the persistent nurse. She didn't look back, knowing that it would be too painful; knowing that she would just end up rushing back over. She would be back tomorrow. She would get him back.

Chandler stared up at the ceiling, blinking every once in a while.

_I told you that you would end up here. And guess what Chandler? I'm going to live up to my promise. I'm going to make your life a living hell._

Chandler heard the voice, but he didn't respond. He couldn't. He couldn't do anything; anything but listen to the voice taunt him. He wanted to call out to Rachel, wanted to talk to her; hold her, kiss her. He wanted to tell her about the dream he had, how a new girl, a Lisa Anderson was going to die. But he couldn't. All he could do was listen to the voice. He couldn't even cry. Not that he wanted to. He wasn't going to cry.

He couldn't, wouldn't, mustn't.

_Were stuck together now Chandler. All alone. _

_And I am going to make your life a living hell._

Chandler wanted to shudder, but he couldn't. He only hoped that one day he would return back to Rachel, be able to tell her he loved her back. Be able to do all the things she had dreamed about. Be able to tell Joey that he didn't hate him. He hoped that Rachel would be able to get him out of here. But until then, he was stuck with the voice. He was stuck in this hell.

And he couldn't even cry.


End file.
